


Harry Potter and the Boy Who Lived

by BadWolfe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Dark Harry, Dark Magic, Durmstrang Student Harry Potter, Gen, Harry Potter is Not the Boy-Who-Lived
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 14:07:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 218,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21393430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadWolfe/pseuds/BadWolfe
Summary: Harry Potter loves, and is loved by, his parents, his godfather, and his brother. He isn’t mistreated, abused, or neglected. So why is he a Dark Wizard? NonBWL!Harry. Not your typical Harry’s brother is the Boy Who Lived story.
Comments: 39
Kudos: 241





	1. An Alternate Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is being posted on behalf of the amazing author The Santi. In addition to the 12 chapters originally posted on Fanfiction.net, this will also include the additional 6 chapters post on Dark Lord Potter. The story will remain as is in it's incomplete state, unless the original author chooses to continue or grant permission for another author to continue the story. I have done my best to keep all the original formatting and scene breaks.

**Manifestation of Destiny**

**(Oct. 31** **st** **, 1981)... **

"_Avada Kedavra_." With a burst of green light, a serpentine-looking man casually killed the Muggle standing in his way. The Dark Lord's blood red eyes showed neither enjoyment nor anger at the monstrous deed. Killing Muggles was simply a service that he performed for the wizarding world.

The sound of frantic footsteps caught the Dark Lord's attention. He turned and saw a Muggle woman, tears running down her face, staring at her dead husband from the foot of the stairs. "David! David, please, get up!" she cried.

The Dark Lord couldn't help but let a soft laugh escape his lips. "I'm afraid that you are now a widow, Mrs. Evans."

"You monst–"

"_Imperio_," the spell immediately stopped the frantic woman's screams. "You will take me to Nathan Potter."

The woman obediently turned on her heels and led the cruelest man on the planet upstairs where her two grandchildren were sleeping. She pushed open the door at the end of the hall and walked forward into the room where a single crib housed the two young boys.

Voldemort followed the Muggle with a satisfied smile on his face. Ever since he had been told of the prophecy that foretold his fall, he had done little else but plot for the destruction of the child. It had not taken long for his network of spies to find all the children born near the end of July. A clerk at St. Mungo's under the Imperius curse had easily obtained and copied the records for every child born near the end of the month of July. From those records, the Dark Lord learned of two children born on the 31st of July.

Harry Potter, born July 31st at 22:42, and Nathan Potter, born July 31st at 22:50. Nathan Potter was the last child born in magical Britain in July.

_Born as the seventh month dies_, the Dark Lord remembered thinking as he read the records. Nathan Potter would be the one who could bring about his doom. That would not happen. He would simply kill the boy before he ever became a threat.

Unfortunately, the ancient magic with which Albus Dumbledore had protected the Potters was, as much as Voldemort hated to admit it, practically impenetrable.

Voldemort's followers had attempted to kidnap the blood-traitor Sirius Black and torture the location from him, but the mission had failed, and now Black was hidden away someplace under a Fidelius charm as well. His spy had reported that Dumbledore himself was Black's Secret-Keeper, making getting to Black impossible.

In his frustration, Voldemort had ordered his spy to kidnap the Potter children; however, that rash plan had failed spectacularly as well. The additional wards around the Potters's property wouldn't allow the children to be forcibly taken outside by anyone without a blood tie. The plan had nearly cost him his only spy in the Order of the Phoenix, and it was only Peter's quick talking that convinced the Potters of his innocence in the matter.

The Dark Lord was not a fool. He recognized that thus far his plans had been rushed and ill-conceived. No, Voldemort had always learned from his mistakes, and so, he waited. He would wait and plot the child's demise until an opportunity could present itself. In the meantime, he vented his frustrations by launching attacks against wizarding Britain. He was relentless. Giants, trolls, vampires, werewolves, and Death Eaters were all sent out on nightly missions.

While the war escalated, his spy, who was acting as a mail carrier between Lily Potter and her Muggle parents, was hinting to the Potters how much the mudblood bitch's mother and father wanted to see their grandchildren. Eventually the Potters agreed with Peter, who suggested that the order meeting on Halloween, being only an hour or two, would be safe enough to leave the children with their grandparents, especially since Peter would remain on location to guard them.

On Halloween night, the Potters dropped their children off at their Muggle grandparents' home. Immediately upon their Disapparation Peter had contacted the Dark Lord, and now Voldemort was prepared to ensure his eternal domination.

The Dark Lord looked between the two children lying next to one another in the crib. "Which one is Nathan Potter?" he demanded of the Muggle.

The woman quickly took one of the children in her arms and presented him to the Dark Lord.

"Place him on the floor," Voldemort ordered.

As soon as the child was on the floor, it began to cry. Soon afterward, the other Potter child woke up and began crying as well.

Having served her purpose, Voldemort ended the female Muggle's life with a swift _Avada Kedavra. _

The woman falling dead at the feet of Nathan Potter only increased the frantic children's cries. Looking between the two Potter boys, Voldemort raised his wand to kill Nathan Potter's twin first; however, as he was about to send the killing curse at Harry Potter, the magical ward he placed around the Muggle's home quivered and failed.

_Dumbledore_! Voldemort would recognize his old professor's magic anywhere. He had come to defend his chosen one, but the old man would be too late this time; the boy would die by his hand! Turning his wand away from Harry Potter, Voldemort snarled, "Goodbye Nathan Potter. _Avada Kedavra_!"

The Dark Lord smiled as the green light shot out of his wand and struck the child in the head; however, everything soon went wrong. Nathan Potter screamed out in pain and the killing curse seemed to pool around the child's forehead before flying backwards at Voldemort, who took the full brunt of the curse in his chest.

With a scream of absolute agony, Voldemort felt a soul tearing pain as his body was destroyed.

**Present and Past**

**Godric's Hollow, (Dec. 11** **th** **, 1988)...**

"Please, Mum," Harry whined while giving his mother his best puppy eyes.

Lily sighed. They had had this conversation far too many times. "Harry, no. You and Nathan are much too young to start learning magic."

It had been seven years since the fateful night in which the Dark Lord had vanished. Seven years since her youngest son, Nathan, had been proclaimed the wizarding world's savior. Seven years since she and James had found out that one of their closest friends had set up her parents and their children to die.

A lot had changed in the world, and not all for the better. Once the Dark Lord had been defeated, Lily had wanted to drop the Fidelius charm on Godric's Hallow and live their lives as normally as they could. Unfortunately, that was not destined to happen. Albus had warned against dropping the charm. At first it was just to be while the Dark Lord's followers were being captured, and after what happened to Frank and Alice Longbottom, Lily was thankful she and James had listened to Albus. However, when several known Death Eaters avoided jail by claiming the Imperius curse, Lily and James had been forced to keep the charm up for longer than they had intended.

When Harry and Nathan were five, they had considered dropping the charm. That decision had been nixed after one family outing into Diagon Alley. They had been mobbed by well-wishers and people wanting to take pictures of Nathan. Needless to say, both boys were terrified of the massive screaming crowds, and it was only Albus' timely arrival with several former Order members that saved them from being completely run over.

After the Diagon Alley incident, Albus had suggested that James and Lily raise Harry and Nathan under the Fidelius charm, to avoid Nathan from becoming arrogant about defeating Voldemort. Albus only needed to ask James what he would have been like if he had defeated the most powerful wizard alive as a one-year-old to gain the couple's support. Lily would not allow Nathan to grow up an arrogant berk like her husband had once been, and James had long ago accepted that he never would have gotten Lily acting like he had during his first six years at Hogwarts.

Lily and James were proud to say that they had raised Harry and Nathan without showing any favoritism. When they told the two boys about how Nathan had stopped Voldemort, they made sure to mention that it was not any superior wizard power that had saved Nathan, but rather a one and a billion chance piece of magic. This ensured that Nathan didn't get a big head, and that Harry didn't feel inferior to his twin.

"But Mum, you said _you_ learned magic before you went to Hogwarts," Harry argued.

"That was completely different, Harry," Lily replied. "I was almost ten at the time."

"But Nathan and I are eight. That's so close to ten."

The mention of Nathan caused Lily to glance around the living room curiously. "Where is your brother? I'm surprised he isn't out here arguing along with you."

Growing up with no other real companionship, her two boys were practically inseparable. Oh, they had their arguments, and they usually ended when one or the other said something hurtful, causing the other's magic to lash out accidentally. Nothing too harmful of course –Nathan removed all of Harry's hair once, and Harry had turned Nathan's skin pink on a few occasions. The two boys simply loved each other too much for even their magic to do anything more harmful than embarrass one-another.

"He's outside with Dad and uncle Sirius," Harry said with an innocent smile on his face.

Lily immediately felt herself stiffen. James had certainly grown up since Hogwarts, but whenever he and Sirius or Remus got together with the boys it was as if they all reverted into their 17 year old selves. "And what are they doing?" She asked.

Harry smiled brightly. "Uncle Sirius promised to teach us how to fly on real brooms over the holiday."

"He what!" Lily thundered.

"Yep, Nathan's outside testing the Nimbus 1700," Harry said, ignoring his mother's increasing ire. "You know, if you started teaching us magic, we wouldn't spend so much time trying to get Uncle Sirius to tell us about the pranks he pulled, or bothering Dad to get us a real broom."

Lily felt her eyes narrow, and she cast a suspicious look at her smiling son. "I thought you said your uncle Sirius already bought a Nimbus 1700."

Harry's face paled at what he had accidentally given away. "Well…he…"

"Harry, did your uncle buy you and Nathan a Nimbus 1700, yes or no?" Lily stared sternly at her oldest son.

Harry stuck his hands in his pockets and rubbed his toe into the carpet. "No," he admitted, looking very guilty about lying. "But Sirius and Dad have been hinting they will be getting us brooms sometime either over Christmas or for our next birthday."

Lily stared at Harry for a while as she mulled over her son's words. James had indeed been pressing to get the boys a racing broom for Christmas, but she had managed to get him to admit that eight was still a bit too young. She was certain, though, that he would be getting them both brooms for their birthday. Thinking of her two sons flying around on those twigs of death, recklessly playing Quidditch like their father, terrified her more than she was willing to admit.

Perhaps, she thought, she could prevent her two boys from becoming totally Quidditch-obsessed like her husband. While any wand magic was certainly impossible, she could teach them some theory as well as practical stuff with Potions, much like Severus had done with her when they were younger.

The thought of Severus Snape caused Lily to pause. She hadn't written to him in over a year, and hadn't seen him since a Potions convention in 1985. Their meeting had been awkward to say the least. A part of Lily had been angry at Severus for his role in giving Voldemort the prophecy, but she couldn't deny that he had changed sides at considerable personal risk to save her. She was not deluded enough to think Severus cared at all about James.

Still, she knew that Severus was teaching at Hogwarts, and that he probably demanded nothing but the best from his students. Severus simply didn't have the patience or temperament to expect anything less of them. It would certainly be in her children's best interest to know their Potions before stepping foot into his class.

"Harry, it was wrong of you to lie to me," Lily admonished. "I would have been very unhappy with your uncle Sirius, and you know how much I dislike apologizing to him."

Even though he was being chastised, Harry couldn't help but let a small smile grace his face at his mother's comment.

"I suppose, though, that I could begin to teach you and your brother some magic," Lily said as Harry let out a whoop of joy. "There will be rules. First, you will not be getting a wand. You're just too young to adequately control one right now, you could hurt yourself. That means you'll only be learning theory for wand classes, okay?"

Seeing that Harry didn't look exactly happy at not getting a wand early, Lily pressed on. "You will learn Potions from me, and I will let you brew things. You will not, under any circumstances, try to make something without me being there. Is that understood?"

Harry's disappointed quickly changed into delight as he nodded his head. Lily couldn't help but smile.

"Alright, Harry, now go tell your brother. We'll start your lessons this weekend."

Lily watched as Harry happily ran out of the room to go find his brother. Shaking her head and wondering what exactly she was getting herself into, Lily went into the kitchen to make herself some tea.

Harry's excited expression had reminded her so much of herself. She also had wanted to know everything about magic, and was upset when she found out that she couldn't get a wand till she went to Hogwarts. Lily remembered Severus' smile, not the smirk like he did now but a real smile, as she ranted about how unfair it was that they couldn't get a wand before they turned eleven. How much their lives had changed since then.

She recalled the moment their friendship had ended. How Severus called her a 'mudblood' that day after their owls. She had been heartbroken that he could do something so cruel, and had refused to listen to his apologies that summer. Lily knew that Severus held a great deal of anger towards his abusive father; she also knew that he had to be careful in his own House because he was a half-blood. Even when she noticed him hanging out with a rougher crowd starting in their sixth year, she never thought he'd become a Death Eater. Not Severus.

But he was. For how long she didn't know, but he was.

Still, Lily couldn't help but see his smiling eleven-year-old face when she thought of him, and she grudgingly admitted to herself that she was not exactly blameless in her onetime best friend's descent into the Dark Arts. She had been an emotional teenager. She had felt hurt and betrayed in the worst way by her best friend, and so she had lashed out and abandoned him. She was angry at Severus, but she never imagined, or wanted, him to fall the way he did.

Making up her mind, Lily slowly stood up. She had a very long and overdue floo call to make, and an old friend to make up with.

**A Family Outing **

**Godric's Hollow, (July 31** **st** **, 1991)...**

"Nathan, hurry up, we're going to be late!" Harry yelled up the stairs.

James laughed at his son's impatience. "Relax, Harry, we'll have plenty of time. The alley isn't going anywhere."

"But Dad, we've been eleven for hours already, and Nathan is taking forever."

"I'm here. I'm here. I'm here," Nathan said jumping down the last few steps.

"Finally," Harry said with a roll of his eyes.

Nathan rolled his eyes at his brother. "The bookstore will be there waiting for you, Harry, don't worry."

"Yeah, well, unless we hurry, Mum won't let you and Dad stare at all the new brooms," Harry shot back, causing both Nathan and James to exchange a look of horror.

"Lily, dear, we had best be leaving. Don't want to fight the crowds, after all," James called out, quickly ushering his two boys into the kitchen.

"Already?" Lily asked.

"Well, you know, better be safe than sorry," James said shiftily.

Lily just stared appraisingly at James for a moment. "Alright. Nathan, remember your hat, and if anyone asks you your name, you say it's what?"

"Dudley Dursley." Nathan smirked.

Lily did not look at all pleased and turned to James accusingly. "That is not funny. The poor boy can't even hear the word 'magic' now without grabbing his…"

"Overly huge butt," Nathan quipped, but quickly fell silent at his mother's glare.

"We fixed everything, Lily," said James soothingly, "and the boy clearly overreacted –"

"That treat caused him to grow a tail, James!" Lily snapped angrily. "It was his first experience with magic."

"He _was_ being a bully," Harry pointed out calmly.

"That's no excuse to stoop to his level," Lily said heatedly before calming herself. "I'm not having this argument again. Let's go."

After a few quick glamour charms, the now unrecognizable Potter family floo'd to the Leaky Cauldron and made their way through the magical gateway into Diagon Alley.

"Do we have enough money, Charles?" Lily asked, using James' middle name.

"Yes, how about we split up? I know Nathan has his apothecary stuff, but Harry has run out," James said.

"Alright," Lily agreed. "Let's meet in Ollivander's at noon." Seeing the ecstatic look on her husband's face Lily quickly added, "But so help me if you show up without any of Dudley's school supplies and a stupid grin on your face, I will ban you from taking Dudley to Quality Quidditch ever again."

Properly chastised, James quickly led Nathan towards Madam Malkin's while muttering about getting their shopping done quick.

"So where too, Harry?" Lily asked.

"Flourish and Blotts," Harry said immediately, earning a smile from his mother.

Harry had taken to learning magic from his mother like a fish to water, and Lily couldn't help but be proud of her son's enthusiasm. Ever since she had begun teaching Harry and Nathan, she had struggled to keep the lessons interesting for Harry without going over Nathan's head with the material. This was nearly impossible, however, as her older son had taken to obsessively reading every book the Potters owned on magic. She couldn't count the number of times she had seen her son fast asleep with a large book draped over his chest or practicing wand movements with a stick in the backyard while Nathan played Quidditch or practiced some pranking magic. It had even gotten to the point where Lily had ordered Harry to go play Quidditch one day with his brother and uncles.

While not completely identical, both boys shared their father's build and his black hair. Harry, though, tamed his unruly hair and liked to slick it back in a traditional pureblood way with a great deal of ever-holding gel. Nathan, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy mimicking his father's unruly hairstyle.

Besides their hair, another difference between the twins was that Harry had inherited Lily's bright green eyes while Nathan had his father's chestnut brown eyes and high cheekbones. Of course there was the one obvious identifier: Nathan had the now-famous lightning bolt scar on his forehead from where Voldemort's killing curse had failed to kill him.

"Alright, Harry, now remember: I have your list, and you can only pick three other books," Lily said as she guided her son into the shop.

Fifty-five minutes later an exasperated Lily Potter escorted her son out of Flourish and Blotts and quickly went about finishing up his shopping. She couldn't believe they had spent nearly an hour in the bookstore. If she was late to Ollivander's, James would never let her forget it. Well…James would drop it or be left to sleep on the couch, she decided, but Sirius and Remus would never let her forget it, and James would of course inform his fellow Marauders.

Arriving outside of Ollivander's, Lily checked her watch and saw they were five minutes early. Entering the shop, Lily immediately noticed James and Nathan sitting in a chair as Mr. Ollivander seemed to be fitting an excitable Irish boy with his wand.

"You got here early," Lily commented.

"Dad got us here twenty minutes ago," Nathan grumbled.

Lily couldn't help but smile. She still had James wrapped around her finger after all these years.

An excited scream of joy alerted the Potters that the now dancing Irish boy had found his wand. Seven Galleons later and the boy's mother dragged him out of the shop, giving an apologetic glance to the Potters as they left.

"Ah and now that that bit of business is wrapped up, I suppose that both the young Potters will be needing wands today?" Ollivander asked, turning his attention towards them.

"How did you know, sir?" James asked removing his glamour. "No one has recognized us all day."

"My boy, I remember every wand I've ever sold. Dragon heartstring, twelve inches, rather good for transfiguration, isn't it?" Ollivander gestured to James' wand. "And Mrs. Potter. Willow with a unicorn hair, rather bendy. Still, a good wand for Charms. I do wonder what you two boys shall end up with. Who's first?"

Nathan boldly stepped forward and Harry watched as his brother was measured by a magical tape-measure and then given wand after wand for testing. After what felt like an hour of Nathan lifting a wand above his head, and Ollivander snatching it back, the old man went back to his workstation and brought back a wand while seemingly deep in thought.

"Try this one, Mr. Potter. Holly and Phoenix feather, eleven and three-quarters of an inch,"

Nathan took the wand, and immediately waved it around causing red and gold sparks to fill the room.

"Bravo, Bravo, Mr. Potter, well done," Ollivander said as Lily, James, and Harry congratulated Nathan for finally finding his wand.

"Curious, curious," Ollivander mumbled.

"Excuse me sir, but what's curious?" Nathan asked, still grinning at his new wand.

Ollivander peered over his small spectacles at Nathan. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter, and as it turns out the Phoenix whose tail feather rests in your wand gave another feather, just one. It is curious that you would be destined for that wand when its brother gave you that scar."

The atmosphere in the wand shop quickly dropped as Nathan now looked at his wand in horror. Seemingly oblivious to the tension, Ollivander said, "Yes, yes, it is very strange how these things work out. After all it is the wand that chooses the wizard."

Everyone was silent for a moment before Ollivander turned to Harry. "Well Mr. Potter, you're next. Yes, we must hurry. If you take half as long as your brother, I expect we'll be here for a while."

With the tension seemingly broken, the Potter's settled down and watched as Ollivander began handing Harry several different wand combinations. "Maple and Dragon Heartstring… no not right. Rosewood and unicorn hair… simply not. Holly and Dragon Heartstring… oh, no, no, no. Maple and Phoenix feather... absolutely not but oh my what an explosion. Ash and Dragon Heartstring, Ten inches, a very temperamental wand."

Harry took the wand and immediately felt a shiver go from his hand down to his spine, with a quick flick, the wand shot out a silver stream of magic that impacted the wall and exploded into hundreds of bubbles."

"Success," Ollivander said cheerfully. "I daresay that you found your wand, Mr. Potter."

"Thank you, sir. No warnings about how my wand is the brother wand of Grindelwald, right?" Harry asked causing Nathan to smile slightly.

"No, I'm afraid not," Ollivander replied. "That will be fourteen Galleons, Mr. Potter."

**First Impressions**

**King's Cross, (Sept. 1** **st** **)...**

"Really, Mum, we'll be fine," Harry placated his mother for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"My boys have grown up," Lily said with a teasing smile on her face.

"Come on Lily, they're going to miss the train if we keep standing here outside the platform," James said.

"I know that, James, but it's not every day that Harry and Nathan start Hogwarts, and you're the one who said we should arrive late to avoid being mobbed."

"They won't be able to go to Hogwarts if they miss the train," James muttered. "I doubt we'll get mobbed now. Nathan has his hat on, and most the kids are probably already on the train."

"Fine. Let's go, boys. You remember how to get onto the platform?" Lily asked.

"Just walk through the barrier, Mum. I've been waiting for years to go to Hogwarts, and we've seen at least eight families already go ahead of us," Harry said somewhat impatiently.

"Yeah, let's go before Harry goes crazy at the thought of not seeing the Hogwarts library," Nathan teased.

"It's funny that you're laughing now, Nathan," Harry smirked, "because I didn't see you laughing after we got our wands and you couldn't stop a single one of my jinxes from hitting you."

"I'm sorry that I actually have a life and don't just practice wand movements and spells for hours on end," Nathan shot back.

"Oh, that's right, I'm sorry," Harry said sarcastically, "I forgot that your ability to lose to Dad at Quidditch means you have a life and I don't."

"Enough! Now boys, lets go one at a time," Lily said, gesturing towards the barrier.

Harry quickly grabbed his trunk and made his way to the other side of the barrier, and a few moments later he was joined by his brother and parents.

"I just don't understand how none of the Muggles ever notice," Nathan commented.

Rolling his eyes, Harry said, "It's called a Notice-Me-Not charm for a reason, genius."

"OK, that's enough," James snapped as Nathan opened his mouth to respond to Harry's taunt. "You boys are going to have to watch out for each other at Hogwarts, so don't start off on a bad foot."

"Sorry Dad."

"Yeah, sorry."

"Good. Now both of you have a good term, and we'll see you at Christmas," James said before hugging both of his children.

"Yes, and don't you dare forget to write," Lily said tearfully as she gathered her sons into a large hug. "I want to know how you're first day goes, what house you are sorted into, and everything else that happens to you."

After a few more goodbyes, Harry and Nathan finally were able to get away from their teary-eyed parents and made their way onto the Hogwarts Express.

"That took forever," Harry said as he struggled to life his trunk onto the train before helping his brother with his.

"Yeah, you'd think they would never see us again or something," Nathan complained. "Let's find a compartment close by, I don't want to lug this trunk all over the train."

"I know what you mea…wait, what's wrong with us," Harry said, shaking his head and then tapping both of their trunks with his wand.

Nathan's eyes widened as he was now able to lift his trunk without any problem. "How?"

"Feather-Light Charm," Harry explained. When his brother continued to look at him, he said, "It's in the seventh chapter of our Charms book."

"Is there anything you don't know already? Why are you even going to Hogwarts?" Nathan teased.

"Prat," Harry said with a smile as the two boys made their way down the train looking for an empty compartment.

"Oi, Fred, look! Lost firsties!"

"They seem to be getting smaller every year, don't they?"

Harry and Nathan turned around to see two grinning redheads approaching them. Nathan instinctively lowered his hat to cover his scar.

"We're not lost," Harry told the twins. "You'd have to be pretty dumb to get lost on a train."

"George, he's a smart one. Let's introduce him to our dearest brother," the first twin said.

"Oh yes, Fred, a capital idea. Ronald could use some smarting up anyway," George replied before grabbing Harry and his trunk. The redhead looked a little surprised at the weight of the trunk before ignoring it and practically dragging Harry down the hallway. After a brief walk, he opened a door and guided Harry into the compartment. A moment later, Fred appeared tugging Nathan into the compartment that, Harry noticed, had another red haired boy sitting in it.

"Ronald, we brought you some company!"

"Yes, now you don't have to sit all by your lonesome."

"Now play nice boys, and don't make us come back here for any trouble making."

"Gits," Ron yelled at his brothers as they left and closed the compartment door behind them. "Um, I'm sorry about them. Fred and George can be a real pain."

"Yeah don't worry about it, I know how brothers can be," Nathan smirked.

"Funny," Harry said dryly as he levitated his trunk next to Ron's.

"Wow," Ron said as he watched Harry levitate his trunk effortlessly, "Are you a second year?"

"No, we're both first years," Nathan commented when he saw that his brother wasn't about to respond. "Harry just has had nothing better to do for the past few years than study magic"

Ron's eyes widened. "Your parents let you learn magic already? You're so lucky. Oh, I'm Ron by the way, Ron Weasley."

Harry and Nathan shared a brief look before Harry nodded slightly, they'd have to admit who they were eventually. "Harry Potter, and did you know you've got a smudge on your nose?"

Ron blushed and tried to rub his nose a little before Harry's words seemed to hit him. "Wait did you say _Potter_?"

"Yes, hi, I'm Nathan Potter," Nathan said hesitantly as he took off his hat, revealing his lightning bolt scar.

"Wow," Ron said reverently as he shamelessly stared at Nathan's scar.

Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes in annoyance at Ron. If he was indicative of how the Hogwarts population was going to treat his brother…well, it was going to be a long year.

"So, Ron," Nathan said a little awkwardly. "You play Quidditch at all?"

That seemed to snap Ron out of his daze. "Do I! I love Quidditch, I've been a Cannons supporter for my entire life…"

Harry couldn't help but shake his head as Ron began singing the praises of the Chudley Cannons while Nathan began arguing for the Pride of Portree. Harry could tell that the two would be obsessing about Quidditch for a while so he levitated his trunk down, removed a book on transfiguration, and ignored any attempt by Nathan or Ron to bring him into their Quidditch conversation.

As the countryside began to pass, there was a knock on the compartment, and the door opened revealing a bushy-haired girl. "Excuse me, but have you seen a toad?" the girl asked as she practically dragged another boy into the compartment with her. "Neville lost his."

Nathan looked up from his conversation with Ron. "No, sorry, haven't seen one."

The girl seemed oblivious to Nathan's response, though, as her eyes were locked onto Harry, who was waving his wand in a circle and making the occasional jabbing motion.

"Ooooo are you doing magic?" she asked before sitting down across from Harry. "Well let's see it!"

Harry looked at the slightly rude girl before a smirk crossed his face. Turning to face Ron, Harry jabbed his wand at the boy. "_Pingo Orange_." The spell shot of out his wand and struck Ron, turning his skin bright orange. "There now you look like a true Cannons supporter."

Ron looked horrified at his now-orange skin and angrily took out his wand."Turn me back," he demanded.

"Harry, turn him back," Nathan said seriously, "that's not funny."

"Fine, but only if you two promise to cut out the Quidditch babble, it's been hours already, and Ron, the Cannons are horrible, everyone knows that," Harry said as he raised his wand. "_Finite_."

Ron immediately turned back to normal and looked ready to explode in anger. Harry wasn't sure if it was because of the jinx or because he had mocked the Cannons – probably both.

Before Ron could launch into a tirade, however, the girl spoke up. "I've never seen that spell before. I've tried a few spells at home and they've all worked for me. I'm Hermione by the way, Hermione Granger."

"Harry Potter."

"Are you really?" asked Hermione. "Any relation to Nathan Potter, The Boy Who Lived?"

Harry jabbed his thumb at Nathan. "That would be the illustrious savior right there."

Nathan scowled at Harry before saying hello to Hermione and a completely stunned Neville.

"You're really Nathan Potter! Did you know you're in _Modern Magical History_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_?"

Once again Harry found himself tuning out the banter. He'd read both books the girl was talking about and found them to be lacking in any sort of validity. Honestly, they didn't even mention that Nathan _had_ a brother.

Neville and Hermione left to go looking for Neville's toad again after a brief conversation about the Hogwarts houses. Harry was actually going to contribute to that conversation before Nathan had jumped in and proclaimed him to be a future Ravenclaw without giving him a chance to offer his opinion. He had glowered at his brother, but refrained from commenting on Nathan's insightful comments.

As the train ride continued and it began to get dark, the door once again opened. It took Harry one look between the pale faced boy that had just entered and his brother to let him know that nothing good was going to come of this meeting. With a jab of his wand, Harry sent a stream of sparks at the boy causing him to jump backwards into the hallway, knocking over the two other boys who were apparently planning on following him into the compartment. Harry then quickly stood up, closed the door, and locked it with a quick _Colloportus_.

"Know him already?" Harry asked his clearly upset brother.

"Yeah," Nathan said angrily, "I met the ponce in Diagon Alley."

"Who is he?" Ron asked.

"Draco Malfoy. I was in disguise, and he kept going on and on about how superior he was because of his family."

"I know that name," Ron growled. "My dad doesn't like Mr. Malfoy at all."

As Ron and Nathan began talking about how they couldn't wait to learn how to curse Draco, Harry shook his head and went back to reading. It wasn't like _he_ needed a class to learn how to curse people; he'd been subtlety cursing Nathan since he got his wand –not that his brother noticed a lot, Nathan probably just assumed he'd been extremely accident-prone or unlucky during the month of August.

**Hogwarts, Great Hall **

Harry couldn't help but marvel at everything around him. The charms on the ceiling, the ghosts, the countless suits of armor, and the talking portraits were beyond what he imagined they would be. Sure, he had read about everything in _Hogwarts: A Histo__ry_,and his parents and uncles had told him countless stories about Hogwarts, but seeing it all was truly amazing.

The Sorting Hat's song was interesting, and he briefly wondered if it had to come up with a new song each year. He looked up at the staff table and saw his pseudo-grandfather, Albus Dumbledore, looking proudly at each new student. Harry briefly caught the headmaster's eye, and he was certain that Dumbledore winked at him just before Assistant Headmistress McGonagall called out the first name to be sorted.

Harry recognized several names that his parents had mentioned. Abbott, Bones, and Davis were among the most notable that Harry remembered. Harry was briefly surprised that he and his brother weren't the only twins in their year. After Padma Patil was sorted into Ravenclaw and her sister Pavarti went into Gryffindor, McGonagall looked at her list of names and called out, "Potter, Harry."

Harry took a bold step forward, knowing that the whispers around the hall were more than likely about him and his brother. The last thing he heard before the hat fell over his eyes was one particularly classless Hufflepuff saying, "I didn't know the Potters had _two _kids."

"Hmmm, just what do we have here?" a disembodied voice asked.

"Hello?" Harry asked tentatively. "Hat?"

"Quite the mind you have, Mr. Potter, but you also have a great thirst to prove yourself. Yes, you fear the world will always see you as the brother of The Boy Who Lived. You wanted to prove yourself better than your brother…"

Harry bristled angrily. "I don't want to be better than Natha–"

"Please, Mr. Potter, you can not lie to me. Besides, it's not wrong to seek greatness, and you do seek greatness, Mr. Potter, there is no doubt about that. I've sorted many children, but only a handful ever held themselves to the same supererogatory standard you seem to set for yourself. Now, where do I put you, hmm?"

"Gryffindor?" Harry asked.

"Is that what you want, Mr. Potter? To be a Gryffindor?"

Harry paused. It was always Nathan's desire to be the perfect Gryffindor like their father, but did he really want to be a Gryffindor?

"Your silence answers my question. Now, while you initially started studying to try and prove yourself an equal to your brother, you developed a love and talent for magic that I have rarely seen in someone your age. Yes, it's quite clear you belong in…RAVENCLAW!"

The hat was quickly removed from Harry's head, and he looked up to see Professor McGonagall give him a small smile as the table furthest to the left exploded in cheers. Harry immediately set off for the Ravenclaw table as McGonagall called, "Potter, Nathan."

As everyone at the Ravenclaw table began trying to shake his hand and congratulate him, Harry did his best to watch his brother when the hat was placed on his head. Judging by the way Nathan was grabbing the stool and muttering to himself, it appeared his brother was having a very intense conversation with the Sorting Hat. After almost a minute had passed, the hat's brim opened and proclaimed Nathan a "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry couldn't help but clap with the rest of the hall as Nathan made his way over to the Gryffindor table. Harry knew Nathan had practically modeled himself after their father for some time, and that it had been his brother's dream to end up in Gryffindor just like their dad.

As Blaise Zabini was placed into Slytherin, ending the Sorting, Harry smiled. He was finally at Hogwarts with his brother. This year was going to be great.


	2. Hogwarts Fall

**The Morning After**

**Ravenclaw Common Room, (Sept. 2** **nd** **)... **

"Hey, Potter, wake up."

Harry stirred slightly in his comfortable four-poster bed and opened his eyes. Standing just outside of the curtains was the figure of Terry Boot, his fellow year mate in Ravenclaw. A quick look at his watch told Harry that it was just past seven.

"Potter, Michael and I are going to breakfast, and Anthony and Stephen are already in the shower. You'd better hurry up or you're going to be late," Boot said before walking out of the first year dormitory.

Harry grunted his acknowledgment and slowly got up. After the welcoming feast, the fifth year Ravenclaw prefect, Penelope Clearwater, had taken the first years up to Ravenclaw tower, which was located on the west side of Hogwarts. Once outside the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room, the group of first years had to answer a riddle from a knocker to gain entrance. Prefect Clearwater hadn't bothered to help them, saying that it was better they learn to answer the riddles on their own merit. It had taken a while but eventually Harry and Su Li came to the answer at the same time, and everyone was given access to Ravenclaw tower.

The Ravenclaw common room was in the shape of a gigantic circle and had huge armchairs that looked big enough to seat at least three first-years. The ceiling of the common room was a gigantic dome and had moving constellations painted on it. A passing sixth year said that the constellations always matched the constellations that would be present above Hogwarts every night, and that the common room ceiling was an excellent study aide for Astronomy.

While the common room was truly mesmerizing, Harry thought that the most impressive thing was the replica statue of Rowena Ravenclaw wearing her signature diadem. The statue stood at the head of the common room between the two staircases leading up to the boys' and girls' dormitories, and its placement gave the impression that Lady Ravenclaw was always watching over her students as they studied.

After a very quick shower and change of clothes, Harry managed to find his way to the Great Hall from the Ravenclaw tower without getting lost. At half eight, the Great Hall didn't seem to have many guests, aside from a nearly full Ravenclaw table, and Harry quickly took a seat next to Anthony Goldstein and Michael Corner.

"Where is everyone else?"

"Weren't you paying attention last night when Clearwater told us that most other Houses are lazy and don't come down to nearly half nine on the first day?" Stephen Cornfoot asked.

"No, I guess I missed that," Harry said sheepishly.

"Yeah, I was pretty tired from the feast as well, but you were out like a light the second we got to our dorm," Anthony Goldstein said while placing several pieces of sausage on his plate.

"Well you didn't have to be up at dawn to make sure your brother had his disguise in place and his alternate identity ready so that our family didn't get mobbed trying to get to platform 9 and three-quarters," Harry said jokingly.

The silence that descended around Harry made him pause halfway through eating a piece of ham and look up. He was slightly surprised to see every single one of his year mates gaping stupidly at him.

"So…what's it like, you know, living with the Boy-Who-Lived?" Terry Boot asked reverently.

Harry shook his head ruefully. "He's my brother –"

"I bet he knows tons of magic already of course," Michael Corner interjected.

"Yeah, he stopped You-Know-Who. Was he getting private training from the Headmaster for your entire life?" asked Goldstein.

"What? Private lessons?" Harry asked, completely flabbergasted. "No, we didn't get any training from Professor Dumbledo–"

"Well, maybe not _you_," Lisa Turpin said sympathetically, "but surely Nathan did, right?"

Harry started to get upset. Did these people honestly think his parents would raise Nathan as some kind of super wizard and throw him to side without a second thought?

"Maybe they didn't tell you," Corner said, "so you wouldn't get jealou –"

"No one gave Nathan any special training," Harry snapped. "It's not like Nathan is the second coming of Merlin or something."

Harry was less than pleased to see that he was now the target of several disbelieving looks from not only his year mates, but several older Ravenclaws, who had been eavesdropping. Slightly upset at the blatant idiocy of his peers, Harry stood up and quickly left the Great Hall. He'd find Professor Flitwick and get his schedule from his Head of House personally; he didn't want to be around a bunch of people who only wanted to talk about his brother anyway.

**ooo0000ooo**

**An Opportunity Missed**

**Hogwarts Library, (Sept. 10** **th** **)...**

A loud thump echoed slightly in the previously silent Hogwarts library. The result of the noise was a frustrated Harry Potter, who had just tossed his first year Transfiguration book off the large oak table at which he was seated. Harry never thought he'd say this, but he was bored. His first year books were nearly identical to the books his mother had when she was at Hogwarts, and he'd finished reading those well before his tenth birthday!

The only book that seemed to be different was his book on Potions, and as much as Harry had enjoyed his mother's lessons, he liked wand magic much more than brewing. That wasn't to say, however, that he wasn't good at Potions. He knew he impressed Professor Snape during his first Potions lesson. The Professor had asked him several challenging questions as soon as class started, and Harry correctly answered every singly one, earning ten points to Ravenclaw for knowing about Potions that weren't even mentioned in the first year curriculum.

While Professor Snape awarding him points seemed to increase the respect the upper-year Ravenclaws had for him, Harry didn't have any friends yet. In fact, Harry found that his stellar academic performance was pushing him further away from his dorm-mates, who now seemed to shift between jealousy and awe around him. Not that Harry wanted to be friends with a bunch of idiots who were obsessed with his brother anyway. He was confident he'd find some friends who actually looked passed his last name eventually.

After picking up his book, Harry made his way up to Madam Pince, the librarian. "Hello, ma'am," he said politely. "You wouldn't happen to have an extra copy of the second year Charms book would you?"

Madam Pince smiled at Harry; she'd taken a liking to him after he had asked her to explain the different sections of the library on his first full day at Hogwarts. "Yes Harry, I do. Are you sure you want to read a second year book though? It's only your first week."

"I'm sure, ma'am. I've already finished the first year book."

Madam Pince nodded her head. While it was generally frowned upon to teach children any magic before they go to Hogwarts, that hadn't stopped generations of purebloods from trying to give their children an edge before starting school. As such, it came to no surprise to Madam Pince that the young boy in front of her had already read a first year book.

"Very well, Harry," she said. "You can keep this book for one week just like the last one. Let me know if you need to check it out longer, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said seriously as he put the book into his bag and quickly went back to his secluded table in the back corner of the library. He never saw a bushy-haired Gryffindor muggleborn enter a few minutes later to ask Madam Pince about the library and where to find certain books.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Please Sir, May I Have Some More?**

**Charms Classroom, (Sept. 22** **nd** **)...**

"Professor Flitwick, can I talk to you in private, sir?"

Flitwick looked up and smiled broadly. "Of course, Harry." With a wave of his wand, the classroom door closed and locked behind the last first year student leaving the room. "Now what can I do for you?"

Harry shook his head at Professor Flitwick's casual, effortless display of silent magic. He had seen his Grandfather, Albus Dumbledore, and his mother use such magic, but he had only recently come to appreciate just how amazingly talented they really were. "Was that some kind of banishing charm to close the door?"

Flitiwick's smile seemed to grow. "No, not quite, Harry. Once you get older you'll find that actual spells are not as important as the intent behind your magic. I suppose you could say I used a subtle banishing charm to close the door, but, in reality, I didn't use any specific spell. I simply desired the door to close behind the last student, and I used magic to fulfill my intent."

"Sir, could you teach me how to do that?"

"Harry, you're progressing amazingly well, but you are far from that kind of magic," Flitwick chided with a smile. "Clearly you have inherited your mother's gift with charms, but, trust me, silent and intent-driven magic is still a few years away for you."

"No, well, sir, I didn't mean that kind of magic exactly. I meant, well…I know a lot of what we do in class already."

Flitwick seemed to appraise his young student for a moment. "I see. Your mother hinted in a letter that she had been teaching you and your brother some magical theory."

"Since I was eight, sir," Harry said quickly. "I've already read the entire first year book, and I've read an older edition of the second year Charms book as well. Do you think, you could, umm, maybe teach me some advanced charms?"

Flitwick shook his head sadly. "Harry, you've been at Hogwarts for less than a month. I know it all seems easy now, but trust me, it will get harder." When it appeared Harry was going to protest, Flitwick continued. "Harry, I've been teaching for a long time. You aren't the first student I've ever seen that has been taught at home and are a little ahead. While your marks are outstanding, so are your brother's and several other purebloods. As your Head of House, I, more than anyone, appreciate your desire to learn more, but believe me when I say that your lessons will get more difficult."

"That's what Professor McGonagall said," mumbled Harry.

"What's that, Harry?" Flitwick asked. "You approached Minerva as well?"

"Yes, sir, and Professor Snape."

"You asked Professor Snape," Flitwick said with surprise. "And what did Professor Snape have to say?"

"To talk to him next year if I continue to show improvement," Harry grumbled.

"Harry, that is quite a compliment, and you should feel proud. Professor Snape has not ever, to my knowledge, offered extra lessons," Flitwick said, surprised at his usually surly colleague's offer.

Harry did feel a little proud hearing that, but it still didn't help him much. "Thank you for your time, Professor Flitwick, I should be heading to History of Magic now."

"Yes, well, off you go then, best not to be late." Flitwick was about to unlock the door when Harry casually waved his wand and said, "_Alohomora_," before quickly walking out of the room.

"5 points to Ravenclaw, Mr. Potter," Flitwick said to himself after Harry left. As Filius arranged his desk in preparation for his next class, he couldn't help but reflect on everything he'd seen so far from Harry Potter. The boy's work had been perfect. Not a point missed on a quiz, his essays were well written, and his practical work was flawless. Filius wasn't kidding when he said that he had seen several students breeze through the first part of his class, but even he couldn't remember a student who had never seemed to struggle on a single assignment. He'd have to keep a closer eye on Mr. Potter for the rest of the term.

**ooo0000ooo**

**If At First You Don't Succeed**

**Empty Defense Classroom, (Oct 1** **st** **)...**

"_Engorgio_," Harry said jabbing his wand at a nearby desk. A blueish-green spell shot out of his wand and made contact with the desk; however, instead of causing the desk to grow, the spell caused the back of the desk to explode, showering the back wall with splinters of broken wood.

"Damn," Harry cursed for what seemed like the tenth time. All around him were fragments of broken wood. Each and every deformed piece of furniture demonstrated the young man's failure at properly casting the growth charm.

Going back to his open charms book, Harry made sure he was doing everything right. A clockwise swirl of the wand followed by a solid thrust forward while incanting the spell as in-gore-gee-oh. He was doing everything right! Why wasn't the spell working?

Closing the book, Harry turned to face one of the few remaining desks. With a clockwise swirl, followed by a sharp jab forward, Harry angrily snapped out, "_Engorgio_."

This time the spell's color was a tad bit bluer, and when it made contact with the piece of furniture, the desk shook for a moment before violently exploding. Harry had to dive behind the teacher's desk to avoid several large pieces of flying debris from hitting him.

Muttering about doing everything the book said, Harry was prepared to give up for the day when he heard the sound of clapping coming from behind him. Reluctantly turning around, Harry found himself staring at Professor Quirinus Quirrell, the resident Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Harry hung his head. Not only did he completely fail at mastering the growth charm, but now he was likely to have his first detention for damaging school property and using magic in an unsupervised classroom.

"Q-q-qu-uite the explosion, Mr. P-P-Potter," Quirrell said with his usual stutter, "I am a little s-s-surprised t-t-t-t-to see all the damage you've d-done. S-s-surely you didn't do all this with one sp-sp-spell?"

"No, sir," Harry said realizing the futility in lying since he was caught red handed. "I had a silencing charm on the room, and I've been practicing for an hour or so."

Quirrell seemed slightly surprised. "I wa-wasn't aware that s-s-silencing charms were f-f-f-first year spells."

Harry shrugged. "I guess I'm a little ahead."

"And what caused all this?" Quirrell asked, gesturing to all the destroyed property.

"An engorgement charm," Harry said, embarrassed at his inability to properly cast the spell.

Quirrell paused for sometime, as if debating something within himself, before saying, "Show me." With a wave of his wand, all the broken desks quickly fixed themselves. Quirrell then levitated one desk away from all the others and gestured for Harry to cast the spell.

Stepping forward, Harry perfectly demonstrated the wand movement and incantation for the engorgement charm. The spell left Harry's wand and impacted the desk, causing it to shake momentarily before violently exploding.

Harry, once again, found refuge behind the teacher's desk, but Quirrell simply raised a shield and allowed the pieces of wood to impact it. "A g-good a-attempt, Mr. Potter," Quirrell admitted, "but do you know w-what y-you did wrong?"

Harry came out from behind the teacher's desk with a scowl on his face. "No. I did the wand movement right, and I know I'm saying the spell correctly."

"True."

"So what am I doing wrong?" Harry demanded. "It should work."

"W-what is th-the most important rule of m-m-m-magic?" Quirrell asked.

After a long pause, Harry reluctantly said, "I--I'm not sure."

"Intent," Quirrell said sharply. "You need to visualize the desk growing, becoming larger. Without intent, your magic is unfocused and chaotic."

"Intent," Harry muttered to himself as he recalled what Flitwick had told him about not needing a specific spell to close his door. "Alright, intent. I can do this."

Harry turned his attention on an isolated desk in the corner of the room. "_Engorgio_," he said focusing on the desk becoming larger. The spell impacted the desk and it began to shake, but this time the desk grew several feet until it was large enough to easily seat Hagrid.

"Congratulations, Mr. Potter."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said very proud at his achievement. "Um, sir, I'm not in trouble, am I?"

"No," Quirrell said after giving Harry an uncharacteristically piercing look.

"Sir," Harry called out as Quirrell made to leave the room, "sir, if you wouldn't mind, um, well, what I mean to say is...if you have the time, sir, do you think you could teach me?"

"I am already teaching you, Mr. P-P-Potter," Quirrell said somewhat sarcastically.

"No, well, yes sir," Harry said. "But I meant in private. Just the two of us. I asked Professors Flitwick, McGonagall, and Snape, and they all said I'm too young, but I –"

"Mr. Potter, you _are_ a f-f-f-first year."

"I can do it," Harry said sharply. "That was a third year charm, and I managed to cast it."

"Only with my help," Quirrell said with a small grin.

"Well, I suppose that's true, but I still did it. Please, sir? I'll learn anything you want to teach me, please?" Harry practically begged.

Quirrell peered at Harry for sometime before he closed his eyes in deep thought. Slowly, he began to nod his head. "Very well, Mr. Potter, but you will do exactly as I say. Understood?"

Harry couldn't keep the large smile off his face as he nodded his head. Quirrell might not be the best teacher in the school, but he clearly knew a bit about magic. Besides if Quirrell turned out to be a bad teacher, he could always just go back to learning on his own.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Do Your Homework...or Else!**

**Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom, (Oct. 10** **th** **)...**

"Move, Potter," Quirrell demanded as he sent another jinx at the increasingly tired boy.

Harry once again felt himself regretting asking Quirrell for help. This was the second time he'd had a _lesson_ with his Defense Professor, and it seemed like Quirrell took a perverse pleasure out of cursing him senseless.

As a puke yellow spell passed over his head, Harry again dove out of the way and momentarily took refuge behind a desk. During his first lesson, Quirrell said he would learn how to counter spells being cast at him.

Unfortunately for Harry, because of his professor's stutter, Quirrell almost always used silent magic. Since he couldn't tell from the incantation, Harry was forced to identify spells by the colour, the speed at which the spell traveled, and his professor's wand movement. Needless to say that was more than a little bit difficult when he was constantly dodging unfriendly spells.

"_R-R-R-Reducto_," Quirrell said.

Harry immediately fled from behind the desk. Quirrell rarely, if ever, used incantations, but when he did, it was too give Harry a heads up for when he was using a more dangerous curse. In this case, Harry recognized the spell as a blasting curse usually taught to fourth years.

Harry didn't know what the counter-curse to that specific spell was, but when the spell struck the desk he was just moments ago hiding behind, causing it to explode, Harry made a mental note to look it up as soon as possible.

Another comment Quirrell had made during their first lesson was that he wasn't there to teach Harry spells, incantations, or even to give him a hint as to the type of magic he should be learning. Rather, Quirrell would put Harry in situations where he would have to adapt and decide what would be best magic to help him.

By sending spell after spell at Harry in a crowded room, Quirrell was encouraging him to not only to learn jinxes, hexes, and curses, but also providing motivation for him to use Transfiguration and Charms in order to protect himself. This led to Harry spending many nights in the library, usually until it closed, reading books on Charms and Transfiguration.

"_St-st-stupefy_," Quirrell said a moment after Vanishing the desk Harry was hiding behind, knocking the boy unconscious.

After casually walking over and smiling victoriously at the fallen form of Harry Potter, Quirrell picked up the boy's wand and woke him up.

With a slight groan, Harry opened his eyes to see his Professor casually standing over him.

"What d-d-did you learn?" asked Quirrell.

"I need to learn the counter for the blasting curse," Harry said, "and what was that last spell?"

"St-st-stunning spell. Incantation is 'St-stupefy,'" Quirrell replied after returning the boy's wand.

"Stupefy," Harry repeated, committing the spell to memory.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Brothers Stick Together?**

**Hogwarts Library, (Oct. 17** **th** **)...**

Sitting in his familiar back table in the library, Harry glanced at the books on Charms, Defense, and Transfiguration that were spread out all around him. Had any of his professors walked by, they would have been slightly concerned at the intense look of concentration and the ever-growing list of incantations the young man was writing down.

"Hey Harry, long time no see."

Harry looked up and smiled as Nathan walked over. His smile faded slightly when he saw Ron Weasley following his brother like a lost puppy.

Harry hadn't seen much of his brother since coming to Hogwarts. The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws didn't share any classes together, and it was generally frowned upon to sit with anyone other than one's housemates at meal times. Also, the fact that Nathan had somehow managed to do the impossible by getting placed onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team as a first year meant a lot of his time was now spent at practice. As such, Harry had only sporadically spoken to his brother, and whenever he had been able to talk to Nathan, Ron Weasley was always present at his brother's side.

Not that Harry had any major problem with Ron; he was a decent enough bloke. Still, Harry was getting slightly annoyed that every time he wanted to hang out with his brother or share some of the problems he had been having since coming to Hogwarts, Ron was always there tagging along.

"Nathan, I'm surprised to see you in a library," Harry quipped.

Nathan smiled. "I've come here to rescue you from yourself, Harry. Come on, Ron and I are going to go explore the castle. These books," he said, motioning to the massive stack surrounding his brother, "can wait."

"No Nathan. Maybe another time."

"Harry, come on. What is so important?" Nathan asked, grabbing the nearest book and looking at it. His eyes widened slightly as he read the title. "Why are you reading a third year Transfiguration book?"

"I am trying to figure out how to transfigure something, obviously," Harry said evasively. Quirrell had told him that he was not, under any circumstances, to tell anyone about his extra lessons. Harry assumed that the man didn't want it getting back to the other faculty that he was spending several hours a week cursing a student. Regardless of the fact that Harry had agreed to the lessons, and kept coming back for more, it wouldn't look good for Quirrell if this news got out.

"Geez, you're like a male Granger," Weasley said with a smirk.

"I'm sorry I actually _enjoy_ learning magic, Weasley," Harry said defensively. He had seen Granger a few times in the library. He had even attempted to talk to her once. After the girl had snapped at him to leave her alone and that she wasn't going to help him with his homework, Harry was rather insulted and hadn't tried to approach her again.

"But Harry this is a _third-year_ book, do you even understand this stuff?" Nathan asked, sounding a little bit impressed and taking a seat across from his brother.

"Some of it is over my head," Harry admitted, "but Madam Pince gave me a good book on theory that has helped a lot. Do you want to read it?"

"Maybe," Nathan said as he continued to flip through pages in the Transfiguration book.

"Nathan, not you too," Ron whined. "Come on, we were going to explore the castle!"

Nathan looked between his brother and Ron for a second. "Well I did promise Ron we'd go exploring."

"Go," Harry said, trying not to sound bitter. "I'll give you the book later."

"Alright, I'll see you later, Harry, don't study too hard." Nathan grinned. "I wouldn't want your brain to explode."

"Get out of here before you get me in trouble for being loud," Harry said, enjoying the familiar banter with his brother.

**ooo0000ooo**

**An Effort in Futility**

**Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom, (Oct. 25** **th** **)...**

Harry made a slashing motion across his body as he mumbled the counter curse to the hair loss hex Quirrell was about to send at him. The spell had just formed on the tip of Quirrell's wand when Harry's counter caused it to fizzle and disappear before it could be sent.

"_Locomotor Mortis_," Harry snapped.

Quirrell batted the spell away with practiced ease.

A nonverbal stunning spell from Quirrell sent Harry diving to the floor. He still hadn't mastered the counter-curse to stop the stunning spell, and he wasn't able to generate the Protego shield that would let him block it.

"_Petrificus Totalus_," Harry said from the floor, sending the spell at Quirrell's legs.

A silver shield popped into existence around Quirrell, and Harry growled in frustration. While Harry now knew a few decent offensive spells, he had yet to even make his instructor move an inch. The man was simply standing at the front of the room with a gigantic smirk on his face.

Before Quirrell could send another spell, Harry sent a ball of blue fire at Quirrell's robes. A casual flick from the professor's wand caused the flame to freeze before it even came close to approaching him. Harry recognized the effects of the freezing charm as the now frozen ball of fire fell to the ground and cracked into several pieces when it hit the floor.

Several large, twisting ropes flew out of Quirrell's wand, but after spending an entire lesson being tied up by the _Incarcerus_spell, Harry had made it a point to learn how to easily counter it. With a swish and flick of his wand, Harry levitated a nearby chair into the path of the ropes, causing them to harmlessly surround the chair. Harry then jabbed his wand at the chair and attempted to Banish it toward Quirrell.

The banishing charm, unfortunately, was slightly beyond Harry's capabilities. Instead of flying at Quirrell, the chair caught fire and fell to the floor. Surprised at the unexpected and colossal failure of his spell, Harry wasn't prepared to dodge a tripping jinx, and he fell to the floor. A moment later, he was Stunned.

A quick _rennervate _from Quirrell woke him up, and Harry was again aggravated at the stupid smirk that had yet to leave his professor's face.

"N-n-n-not bad, P-Potter."

Harry couldn't tell because of Quirrell's stutter, but he was fairly sure his teacher was being sarcastic.

"M-m-maybe next time you'll g-g-g-get me to move."

Yep. Quirrell was definitely being sarcastic.

"If that banishing charm worked, you would have had to move to avoid the chair," Harry countered, hoping to prove that his strategy was good, even if he wasn't quite capable of executing it.

Quirrell actually snorted as he twirled his wand and casually Vanished a nearby chair, demonstrating that he would not have been in nearly as much trouble as Harry claimed.

"What would you do if you were me then?" Harry challenged.

The only hint Harry had that Quirrell was about to cast a spell was the slight narrowing of his professor's eyes, followed by the jabbing of his wand. Harry was surprised to see the spell was sent not at him, but rather a few feet in front of him at a fallen desk. The spell struck the desk and blew it to pieces, sending splinters right at Harry, who only narrowly was able to avoid it by diving to his left.

"You could have used an in-indirect attack or d-d-d-damaged the floor below my feet," Quirrell commented as Harry picked himself up off the ground and prepared for yet another beating at the hands of his professor.

**ooo0000ooo**

**YOU DID WHA** **T?**

**Great Hall, (Nov. 1** **st** **)...**

"I heard he blasted it through a wall," said Lisa Turpin.

"No, he transfigured it and then conjured a cage for it," Su Li said adamantly.

Terry Boot shook his head. "My sister Michelle is a fourth year Gryffindor, and she said that it was actually a running battle through the corridors and that everyone in Gryffindor house could hear it."

"What is everyone talking about?" Harry asked as he took a seat at the Ravenclaw table for lunch.

"You don't know?" asked Padma Patil in shock.

"Know what?" Harry asked impatiently.

"Everyone's saying that your brother killed the mountain troll that broke into the castle last night! No one knows how exactly, but apparently there was a big fight and a bathroom got destroyed," Michael Corner explained.

"What?" Harry asked, dumbfounded. "There is no way Nathan could kill a mountain troll."

Harry was once again frustrated at the pitying looks that his fellow Ravenclaws sent at him. The fact that he constantly rebutted their theories that Nathan was some kind of Merlin-incarnate seemed to make his fellow Ravenclaws feel that he was jealous of his brother.

"Well, explain the points Gryffindor house got last night then? Plus, everyone in Gryffindor is talking about it," Mandy Brocklehurst said haughtily.

Harry was about to argue the intelligence of Gryffindor house as a whole when most of the Great Hall grew quiet, and everyone's head seemed to turn towards the doors. Reluctantly, Harry turned his head and saw his brother walk into the hall with Ron Weasley and, surprisingly, Hermione Granger next to him. The fact that all three of them were blushing told Harry that something had happened.

Sighing, Harry stood up and walked over to where his brother was sitting at the Gryffindor table. He didn't believe the rumors at all, but his brother's reaction coupled with the fact that there _were_ rumors told him he needed to figure out what was going on.

Crossing the hall in a matter of seconds, he came to stand directly behind his brother. "We need to talk."

Nathan slowly turned around and let a bit of a sheepish grin cross his face. Before he could talk though, Hermione said, "You know, it's very rude to interrupt conversations."

Harry fixed the girl with his impression of Professor Snape's stare after a Hufflepuff ruined a Potion. When Granger shut up immediately, Harry knew that he had at least marginally succeeded in mimicking Professor Snape.

"Now, Nathan," Harry commanded impatiently.

Nathan slowly stood up and the two brothers quickly made their way out of the Great Hall. Harry led Nathan into an unused Charms classroom, and he immediately cast a silencing charm on the door before turning to face his brother.

"Okay, Nathan, explain."

"Well...you see, Harry, Ron had said some mean things to Hermione after Charms yesterday," Nathan started, "and she ran into a bathroom to cry."

"So Weasley is a jerk," Harry said sounding unimpressed. "Get to the point where you are doing battle with a _Troll_."

Nathan looked slightly angry at Harry's description of Ron, but he ignored it and pressed on with the story. "Well after Quirrell warned everyone in the Great Hall last night, Ron and I remembered Hermione and we went to warn her."

"And I suppose this is when you ran into it in the hallway and had this running battle that everyone is talking about?"

"Um...no. We sort of, accidentally, locked the troll in the bathroom with Hermione," Nathan said sheepishly. "We immediately went back to help after we realized what we did, but Hermione was a little freaked out to find herself locked in a room with a Mountain Troll."

"Since Granger isn't dead or in the hospital wing, I assume you were able to save her?"

Nathan quickly nodded his head.

"How?" Harry asked more curious than angry now.

"Ron was able to knock it out with his own club using the levitation spell."

"That's...surprisingly smart of him. Maybe he isn't a total idiot after all," Harry said more to himself than to Nathan. "I'm surprised that you didn't think of something to do first."

"I did try to do something," Nathan admitted.

"Oh?" Harry asked. "Troll skin is resistant to most spells, so any jinx or hex probably wouldn't have had an effect on it."

"Yeah," Nathan said, laughing somewhat uncomfortably, "Hermione mentioned that."

"So what spell did you use?" Harry asked curiously.

"I didn't use a spell, I went with a...different approach."

"What _kind_ of different approach?" Harry asked narrowing his eyes dangerously.

"Istuckmywandupitsnose."

"Excuse me," Harry said, "Care to repeat that?"

"I said, I stuck my wand up its nose," Nathan said before ducking, as if expecting Harry to hit or curse him.

Instead of hitting his brother, Harry had closed his eyes and was trying to eliminate the mental image of Nathan on the back of a Troll. Finally, he addressed his brother in an eerily calm voice. "You are, without a doubt in my mind, the luckiest person I have ever met. If you do anything that stupid again, you won't have to worry about detentions, losing house points, or the eventual Howler Mum would send because I'm telling you right now...I will kill you myself." Harry then shook his head one more time before walking out of the room, muttering about stupid brothers and needing a calming potion so that he wouldn't do something he might regret.

**ooo0000ooo**

**The Dark Lord's Lesson**

**Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom, (Nov. 10** **th** **)...**

Harry knew this was his chance. Quirrell was Vanishing the birds Harry had sent at him and was slightly distracted. With a vicious jab of his wand, Harry cast _Incendio_, sending a stream of fire at the feat of his professor. Quirrell continued Vanishing the birds, and, to Harry surprise, ignored the fire at his feat. The fire engulfed Quirrell's robes and shoes, but the professor just stood there, seemingly immune to the inferno that was surrounding him.

As Harry looked on in awe, Quirrell slashed his wand across his body and sent a very menacingly looking orange and red spell that seemed to burn the air as it flew towards Harry. Having no clue what the spell did, Harry levitated a nearby desk into the path of the spell. The desk was instantly blown into several pieces, and the shards fell to the ground in front of Harry.

"_Duro_," Quirrell said pointing his wand at Harry's feet.

Harry danced out of the way of the spell, which impacted the stone floor and seemed to have no effect.

"_Petrificu_-"

Harry's spell was immediately countered by Quirrell before he could finish the incantation. A moment later, Quirrell conjured a large net and Banished it toward Harry.

The sheer size of Quirrell's net made dodging impossible for Harry. With a slash of his wand, Harry sent a cutting curse at the net; however, the net was unaffected by the spell and soon Harry found himself tangled in the cords, completely helpless.

"_Accio_," said Quirrell, summoning Harry's wand into his hand.

With a sigh, Harry looked up through the net at his the victorious professor.

"I suppose you have questions?" Quirrell asked.

"Why didn't my flame spell effect you?" Harry practically demanded.

Quirrell snorted. "Fireproof charms on my clothes."

"Why didn't my cutting spell work?"

"Impervius charm on the net made it resistant to simple cutting spells," Quirrell said as he Vanished the net and returned Harry's wand.

"How was I supposed to know that, though?" Harry asked. "I didn't even see you cast the Impervius charm after the net was conjured."

"There are ways you could have sensed the extra spell, but you are far to young to notice the subtle traces magic leaves. It takes years, if not decades, to learn." Quirrell paused a moment before adding, "So you couldn't have known."

"But if I couldn't have known, there is no way I could have stopped it," Harry said angrily.

Quirrell seemed to appraise Harry for a while. "You could have used a more powerful spell."

"Burnt it?" Harry asked curiously.

"If you know a powerful fire spell that tactic could have worked; however, the incendio and blue ball flame spells would have been repelled."

"But incendio and diffindo are the only powerful fire and cutting spells that are mentioned in my book."

"That doesn't mean more powerful spells don't exist," Quirrell said ominously.

"But I don't know any, and I just learned _those_ spells."

"Sit," Quirrell commanded with some authority.

Reluctantly, Harry took a seat in a fairly battered up looking desk.

"What is the purpose of the spell diffindo?" Quirrell asked.

"To cut or to cleave," Harry replied verbatim from his charms book.

"Cut what though?" asked Quirrell.

Harry thought back to his book. "The book mentioned several uses. Cutting pieces of parchment…"

"Yes, yes, yes," Quirrell said waving him off. "It cuts simple things. It isn't a spell that is particularly powerful or dangerous. It wouldn't be taught to second years if it was. The spell I sent at you was a dueling spell. To cut that net, you would have needed to utilize a spell that was created for the purpose of being used in a duel."

"Um, sir, can't dueling spells sometimes be considered…dark?" Harry asked hesitantly.

Quirrell again seemed to appraise Harry for some time. "What is dark magic, Potter?"

"Any spell, potion, artifact, or magical creation whose purpose is to maliciously harm another," Harry replied with another text book answer.

"Only half right, Mr. Potter," Quirrell stated. "While a lot dark magic is designed to hurt people, the idea that the intent behind all dark magic is inherently malicious is ludicrous."

"But my father said tha– "

Quirrell held up his hand stopping Harry from speaking. "I am not going to argue with whatever your father told you, Harry. I am simply going to tell you what I know."

"I don't understand. Don't dark spells need to be fueled by...evil?" Harry knew he sounded stupid the moment the word 'evil' left his mouth.

Quirrell laughed. "No, and I'll prove it to you. Tell me, when you used the cutting curse, what was your intent?"

"To cut," Harry said obviously.

"Exactly," Quirrell said. "If you were to use a dark cutting curse, the intent behind the spell would be the same, a desire to cut. The only difference would be the power of the spell. If it is evil to use a dark cutting curse, it must also be evil to use the spell diffindo since they share the same intent behind the spell. Do you understand what I'm saying Harry?"

"Sort of," Harry said slowly. "You're saying that while some curses are considered dark, they aren't really bad to use since other spells require you to have the same intent behind them in order to work?"

"Good, you do understand. There really is no good or evil in magic, only varying levels of power," Quirrell said with a smile on his face. "A lot of dark magic is considered wrong because it has tremendous potential to be more powerful and dangerous, not that the spell itself is bad."

"So, it's not _wrong_ to use a dark spell in some cases?" Harry asked. "So if you sent that net at me again, I could have use a dark spell to avoid it, and it wouldn't be a bad thing to do?"

Quirrell nodded, pleased that Harry had come to that conclusion.

"What spell would you have used to cut through the ropes then?" Harry asked curiously.

A very sinister smile slowly spread across Quirrell's face at the question. "There are many powerful severing or slashing spells that would have been good. For example…"

**ooo0000ooo**

**Manipulation of the Worst Kind**  
**Hogwarts** **Library, (Nov. 21****st****)...**

Five Ravenclaw first years sat around their table in the corner of the library.

"Can you believe the essay Professor Snape gave us?" Lisa Turpin complained. "Three feet on the dangers and uses of swelling solutions!"

"I know. All because that Hufflepuff spilled his Potion," Terry Boot said angrily. "I still need to do McGonagall's essay on Gamp's First Law of Elemental Transfiguration. I can't believe Snape gave us all that work."

"Not all of us," Su Li said smugly.

"Just because you were lucky enough to be paired with Potter during the first Potions class doesn't mean you are a decent brewer, Su," Mandy Brocklehurst said irritably.

"Yeah, does Potter even let you touch the cauldron? All I ever see is you chop stuff for him," Michael Corner mocked.

Su blushed. "It's not my fault! Potter doesn't follow the directions on the board. He knows some sort of trick to make the potion better, even Snape was impressed with out last potion."

"Don't you mean he was impressed with Potter," Michael said cuttingly. "I suppose I would be great in Potion's too if I didn't have any friends and spent all my time alone in the library."

"Michael, that's mean, don't say that," Lisa chided.

"Whatever, Turpin, you're the one who called him an antisocial loser last week," Terry said quickly.

"Well…it's not my fault he doesn't talk to anyone," Lisa said, defending her comment.

"Have you noticed that his brother doesn't even hang out with him? Nathan's always with Granger and Weasley," Mandy said as a smirk crossed her face. "Of course he's had to live with Harry for years, so you can't really blame Nathan for ignoring him."

"True. I bet Nathan can't stand Harry." Terry laughed. "Remember how he was so reluctant to talk to him after the troll thing? Harry practically had to drag Nathan out of the Great Hall."

As the Ravenclaw first years continued to make fun of their classmate, Harry had heard enough. He left his eavesdropping spot behind a nearby bookshelf, put the book he was reading into his bag, and slipped out of the library. Without really paying attention to where he was going, Harry found himself standing outside of Professor Quirrell's office. He'd spent a good deal of time with the Defense teacher, and he couldn't help but feel comfortable around him. Raising his hand, Harry knocked a few times on the door and waited.

A few moments passed before the door opened and Professor Quirrell stood in the doorway looking confused. "Mr. Potter? We don't have a lesson today, do we?"

"Uh, no, sir, I was actually just wondering if I could read in your office?" Harry asked, knowing he probably sounded pathetic.

"Alright," Quirrell said, stepping to the side and letting Harry enter the small office.

Harry quickly sat down in a very comfortable chair in the corner of the office next to a rattling box..

"Ignore the boggart, Harry. I just c-c-c-caught it and will be letting my third years have a go at it," Quirrell explained.

Nodding his head, Harry ignored the shaking trunk. Sirius had told him about a boggart that used to haunt the Black family estate in London. When Sirius and his brother were younger, his mother had refused to banish the creature because she felt being reminded of their greatest fear would help her children build character.

Taking out his book, Harry quietly began to read as Professor Quirrell sat behind his desk grading papers. After an hour of silence –broken occasionally by the shaking boggart locked in the trunk–Professor Quirrell put down his quill. "So, Harry, are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"

Harry reluctantly looked up from his book and shrugged. "Nothing, sir."

"Harry," Quirrell said sounding insulted at the boldfaced lie.

"I just…" Harry said softly. "Well, sir, I've been excited about coming to Hogwarts my entire life. My dad told me and my brother all these great stories, and my mum would always say how much she loved it. My uncles said it was some of the most fun they ever had, and Professor Dumbledore, whenever he would come over, used to tell me about all the different ways my dad got in trouble. Everything everyone said just made it sound so wonderful."

Quirrell looked confused. "But?"

"I hate it here," Harry admitted sadly as a tear fell from his face. "I hate that I can't spend time with my brother as much anymore. I hate that everyone I meet is obsessed with asking questions about Nathan. I hate that everyone in Ravenclaw doesn't like me or thinks I'm some kind of genius who can't be approached. I thought I'd have friends, sir."

"Well, Harry, I think that the solution is obvious," Quirrell said calmly.

"What?" Harry asked, eagerly listening to his professor.

"Leave Hogwarts," Quirrell replied. "Hogwarts isn't the only school of magic in the world, Harry. Perhaps Beauxbatons or Durmstrang would suit you better. It would certainly get you out of the shadow of your brother."

While Harry's immediate reaction was to dismiss Quirrell's idea, the more he thought about it, the more appealing it sounded. While some people might initially bug him about Nathan, without his brother's presence they would eventually forget it and get to know _him_. But did he really want to leave Hogwarts?

"Beauxbatons is in the south of France on the Mediterranean," Quirrell continued, seemingly oblivious to Harry's concerns. "I've never been, but I've been told it's quite beautiful. Only a handful of people who don't go to Durmstrang know the school's location, but since it's required that the students all speak in German, the belief is that it is somewhere in Central Europe."

Harry frowned. "But I don't speak German or French."

"Are you a wizard, Potter?" Quirrell asked sarcastically. "A spell can easily be cast on you so that you absorb a language much quicker than normal. You could learn German or French within a week. Personally, I think you would fit in better at Durmstrang. The school structure of Durmstrang is much different than Hogwarts."

"Different how?" Harry asked. The only thing he knew about Durmstrang was that Sirius had mentioned his mother considered sending him there instead of Hogwarts, and that they supposedly taught the Dark Arts.

"Hogwarts, Harry, teaches a core set of classes to all its students for the first five years. The goal is to ensure that all students manage to achieve some level of competency with magic. It is very hard to fail out of Hogwarts. I believe the last student to have failed out was in the late 1890s," Quirrell commented. "Durmstrang, on the other hand, is a school designed to benefit the gifted and powerful. They would rather produce five truly talented wizards than train fifty wizards of average ability like Hogwarts does. Because Durmstrang is geared towards only the top percent of students, the classes are more demanding, and students even have the option of moving ahead in year levels. There are also very few tests, quizzes, papers, or essays."

"What?" Harry asked in confusion. "How do the teachers grade the students?"

"I don't mean to say there aren't any tests, there are a few. From what I understand, there are two easy ways to fail out of a class at Durmstrang. Students are given a list of spells or potions at the start of a term that they are expected to have mastered by the end of the year. Failure to demonstrate a command over the list can result in failing a class. The other, and much more likely, way to fail is during the student's end of the year project. Instead of final exams, each student is expected to demonstrate a final project for each of their classes. The project is supposed to demonstrate the student's competency over the magic taught in the class. If the instructor feels the student did not do a good job on the project, he has the option to make the student retake the class or fail him. Also, should you fail a class at Durmstrang, you are unable to advance in that specific course subject."

"But what if a teacher just doesn't like me?" Harry asked, horrified at the thought of being failed because a teacher didn't like him. "He could just say my project wasn't good enough or–"

"Harry, Durmstrang caters almost exclusively to purebloods. As such, there have been instances of feuds between the families of some students and some teachers. In the late 17th century, it became mandatory to have all teachers at Durmstrang swear an Unbreakable Vow upon being hired. The oath forces the professors to accurately judge the validity of a student's work." Quirrell said calmly.

"But I'm _not_ a pureblood," Harry reminded his professor.

"Harry," Quirrell said condescendingly, "You are the oldest son, and thus the heir to the House of Potter, your blood is pure enough for Durmstrang."

"I--I'll think about it, sir," Harry said as he quickly stood up and left the room. Quirrell had given him a lot to think about, and he needed some time to figure out what he was going to do.

Inside Quirrell's office, Voldemort slowly removed himself from control of Quirrell's body, and he let the stuttering idiot retake command. As he rested in the back of Quirrell's head, the Dark Lord made his plans. The boy would go to Durmstrang. He would make sure of it!

While he had initially told Quirrell to give the Potter boy _lessons_ to try to gain some intelligence about the Potter family, Voldemort eventually came to see the potential the boy had. Harry Potter was bright, had a yearning to prove himself, and was desperately looking for friendship. The result was that the boy was very pliable, and Voldemort had easily manipulated him into learning some basic dark magic. It was nothing dangerous or impressive, but it didn't have to be. Voldemort just needed to show young Harry Potter that practicing the Dark Arts wasn't a vile act. The boy's desire to learn would ensure that eventually he'd study more dangerous dark magic.

The opportunity to send Harry Potter to Durmstrang was also too good to pass up. If nothing else, it would drive a wedge between the boy and his family if the Potters refused to let him attend. If the mudblood and the blood-traitor did let Harry attend Durmstrang... well it would be a true test of the young man's commitment to becoming a great wizard. Durmstrang really was sink or swim for its students, but Voldemort was certain the boy could survive it.

While Harry Potter had ambition, there was a reason the boy was a Ravenclaw. More than anything else, Potter enjoyed learning and practicing magic. Voldemort had watched Potter improve dramatically from his first lesson, and Irma Pince had said in a staff meeting that the boy rarely left the library until it closed. Yes, Potter was a true Ravenclaw. If he went to Durmstrang, the boy would become firmly entrenched in the Dark Arts –if for no other reason than to pass his classes.

A light family like the Potters would never understand their son's need to learn the Dark Arts. They would misinterpret their son's desire to succeed academically, viewing it as him becoming a dark wizard. His family would turn on him eventually, and when they did, Voldemort would be there to offer the young man knowledge. Yes, knowing what he did about Harry Potter, Voldemort was certain that the boy would learn dark magic before failing at anything academically.

Slowly, a warped and twisted smirk appeared on the back of Professor Quirrell's head. The Dark Lord was pleased. Harry Potter would make a fine Death Eater someday.

**ooo0000ooo**

**The Final Straw**

**History of Magi** **c, (** **Dec. 3** **rd** **)...**

Contrary to what most of Hogwarts believed, Ravenclaw house found History of Magic to be just as boring as the rest of the school did. The difference was that while the other houses complained about the class or slept through it, the Ravenclaws either read their history book or spent the time working on assignments for other classes.

Currently Professor Binns was rambling on about how Ulrick the Awful instigated the Goblin Rebellion of 1523, but Harry Potter was not paying him even the slightest bit of attention. The reason behind the normally studious boy's distraction was the piece of parchment that sat in front of him. Charmed by Professor Quirrell to ensure that no one but Harry could read it, the parchment's title read, "Hogwarts & Durmstrang," and listed the pluses and minuses of both schools.

It had been over a week since Quirrell had suggested he transfer, and Harry was now very seriously considering it. He would miss his brother terribly if he left, but, as Quirrell had pointed out, he wasn't exactly able to spend a lot of time with Nathan at Hogwarts either, so what did it really matter if he went to Durmstrang.

The most attractive thing about Durmstang was that he would be able to move ahead in year levels, and that the school actually _encouraged_ students of all ages to study rare and powerful magic. Hogwarts would never let him jump ahead to a more challenging class; it just wasn't done. Not even Professor Dumbledore had been allowed to move ahead when he was at Hogwarts, and he was considered one of the most brilliant student Hogwarts had ever seen. Not to mention the fact that any rare magic at Hogwarts was locked away in the Restricted section of the library, and Harry would not only need a note from a Professor, but also a really good reason to get anything out of there. Professor Quirrell had said that Flitwick, McGonagall, Snape, and the other Professors wouldn't even entertain the notion of giving Harry a pass until after his fourth year.

"Hey Potter, what's a good reason to cast a cheering charm besides making someone feel better?" Anthony Goldstein asked.

"I don't know," Harry said, refusing to help the boy with the Charms essay that was due next period. Honestly, Ravenclaws were supposed to be smart. What was smart about ignoring an essay until the last minute?

"Come on, I know you know of some good ones," Goldstein demanded. "I saw you in the common room last night writing it."

"Well you're wrong," Harry said, and, technically, Goldstein was indeed wrong. Harry had finished that essay the day after Flitwick assigned it. Last night he had been working on an essay Professor Snape had given out the day before.

"What's wrong with you?" Goldstein snapped. "If I don't get this done, Professor Flitwick will take points away and that will hurt the entire house."

"Then you shouldn't have waited till the period before it was due to start it."

"Potter, I'm almost done, I just need one more idea," Goldstein pressed.

Harry simply ignored the boy and pretended not to hear Goldstein say, "No wonder you have no friends."

Durmstrang was beginning to look more appealing by the second. This latest episode with Goldstein was the final straw. Harry wasn't about to help his fellow Ravenclaws pass their classes out of some misguided notion of house unity, and he knew he would probably be hated by the others because of it. He could already see Corner muttering next to Goldstein and both boys turned to glare at him. No doubt by the end of the day, his fellow year mates in Ravenclaw would hate him even more. Well, enough was enough. As soon as he was done with his classes, Harry would go talk to professor Quirrell and see what was necessary to put the process of transferring in motion.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Professor Quirrell's Office, (De** **c. 7** **th** **)...**

_Dear Highmaster Karkaroff,_

_Sir, my name is Harry James Potter, heir to the House of Potter, and I am currently a first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After a great deal of personal reflection, I have decided that I no longer wish to remain at this fine institution, and would like to seek other educational opportunities. _

_Professor Quinias Quirrell, my Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, has told me a great deal about Durmstrang's curriculum, and I find myself greatly interested in your school. I understand that there is an established precedent for students transferring between Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang, and I am interested in knowing if you would be amicable to receiving me as a potential transfer student. _

_If you would be willing to accept me as a candidate for transferring for the Spring 1992 term, please write back to Professor Quinias Quirrell with a positive response. Afterwards I shall consult my Head of House, Filius Flitwick, to have my first term grades sent to you so that you may make a fair decision in regard to my potential. _

_I thank you for your time, Highmaster. _

_Sincerely, _

_Harry J. Potter _

_House of Potter _

"The letter looks good, Harry," Quirrell commented.

"Do you think the Highmaster will accept me?" asked Harry, nervously.

"I believe he will," Quirrell said. "I have also written a letter of recommendation for the Highmaster, and I will attach it to the same owl you send your letter with. Together, they should be enough to at least have Karkaroff accept you as a potential candidate. I'm sure that once he sees your first term scores he will have no choice but to let you attend Durmstrang."

Harry smiled. "Thank you, sir. Not only for writing the letter of recommendation, but, well, for everything."

"It was my pleasure, Harry," Quirrell replied with a disarming smile. "Now I must go to Diagon Alley and pick up some supplies for my fifth year classes. I can mail both letters with an express owl while I am there if you would like."

"That would be wonderful, sir."

**ooo0000ooo**

**Goodbye Hogwarts?**

**Filius Flitwick's Office, (Dec. 16** **th** **)...**

"Mr. Potter, what are you doing here? I thought you were leaving for the holiday! The train is set to leave soon, is it not?" Professor Flitwick asked curiously.

"I am, sir, I just needed to speak with you quickly before I go," Harry said frantically.

"Oh, what about? Judging from how well you performed on my end of term test, you shouldn't be worried about your grades," Flitwick said good naturedly

"Well, sir, I suppose it is about my grades in a way."

Filius shook his head tiredly. As head of Ravenclaw house, he was use to students asking him immediately about their scores following their exams. "Harry, from what Minerva has told me, you have nothing to worry about in Transfiguration, and Professor Snape also said you had done acceptable work on his exam. Coming from Professor Snape, I assumed that to mean you were probably the best in your year."

"I, well…I know I did excellent on all my exams," Harry said, trying not to sound cocky. "I wanted to ask you if you could send my transcript to someone."

Filius raised an eyebrow in surprise. Typically, transcripts were only sent out when a student was seeking an apprenticeship, and Harry was far too young to even be considering such an option. "Why? And to whom?"

"Please send it to Highmaster Igor Karkaroff at The Durmstrang Institute of Magic," Harry said honestly, "and as for why. Well, sir, I'm hoping to transfer there at the start of the spring term."

Flitwick nearly fell out of his chair. "What!?"

"Please, sir, I'm running late as it is, and I need to make it onto the express to head home for Christmas. I just got a response from Highmaster Karkeroff a few minutes ago saying that he has accepted me as a potential transfer candidate, but he wants to see my first term grades. So can you please send the transcript once it's ready?" Harry asked.

"Mr. Potter, just tell me why you want to leave Hogwarts," Filius said, horrified that one of his Ravens was even contemplating leaving.

"Sir...," Harry said really not wanting to have this conversation with his Head of House. "I really do need to be going. The express leaves at eleven and it's already half past ten, and I still need to get to the station in Hogsmeade. Please promise me you'll send the transcript."

"Harry," Filius said, using his young pupil's first name for the first time. "I...I will send the transcript. I am bound as your Head of House to honor the request, but this conversation is _not,_ by any means, over. Go if you must, but I will be writing you and your parents to discuss this over the holidays. Transferring is not something that should ever be considered lightly, and I'm honestly stunned that you did not come to me to ask questions about such a drastic move."

"Thank you, sir, I'll look forward to your letter," Harry said as he quickly left Flitwick's office. Placing a levitation charm on his trunk, Harry began to sprint out of the castle.

Reaching the train with only minutes to spare, Harry turned around and wondered if this would be the last time he would ever see the impressive castle.

"Goodbye, Hogwarts."


	3. Choices

**How the Other Side Lives**

**Hogwarts Express, (Dec. 16** **th** **)...**

A very excited Hermione Granger left the loo and started walking back towards her compartment. Her first semester at Hogwarts was over, but the school was more than she could have ever dreamed. The professors were knowledgeable, the magic incredible, the library was _huge,_ and she had real friends for the first time in her life.

That wasn't to say that everything that had happened during the fall term was good. There were some low points. At first, most of her peers didn't like her. For the first two months of school they had made fun of her, calling her a bookworm or beaver. While the taunting was mean, it was something she had grown accustomed to in primary school. Coming face-to-face with a gigantic mountain troll, however, was not. Halloween was, without a doubt, both the most terrifying moment of her entire life, and, in retrospect, one of the best. It had led to her making friends.

As she passed several compartments, Hermione couldn't help but occasionally glance at the people inside. It was a compartment near the middle of the train that caused her to stop in her tracks. Sitting inside was... Nathan? She was about to open the door and ask what he was doing when she realized that Nathan would never slick his hair back or have his head buried in a book. It wasn't Nathan; it was Nathan's brother. But why was he sitting alone? Surely there were some Ravenclaws on the train that he could hang out with?

Truth be told, Hermione envied Harry Potter. She couldn't count the number of times she had felt alone in Gryffindor because no one understood her. She hated that she was surrounded by a bunch of people who just didn't appreciate the fact that she _liked_ to learn new things. The Sorting Hat had wanted to put her into Ravenclaw; it was actually rather persistent that she would do well there, but Hermione had stubbornly said she wanted Gryffindor. In the end, she had found a place in Gryffindor and now had good friends, but she had been very lonely for some time.

Harry Potter, on the other hand, had gone into Ravenclaw. She frequently saw him in the library studying or talking to Madam Pince about a book. No one ever seemed to make fun of him for spending time there though, and they certainly never hinted that it was wrong or weird for him to want to learn magic. It was as if being a Ravenclaw gave him a free pass to spend as much time as he wanted learning. Not even the Slytherins teased him. They didn't call him a bookworm or a brainiac. They just shrugged their shoulders and let him be. Harry Potter was a Ravenclaw, and it was expected of him to spend a lot of time in the library.

Stepping away from Harry's compartment door, Hermione resumed her walk towards her own compartment where Nathan and Ron were most likely chatting about Quidditch. That sounded about as much fun to Hermione as getting her teeth checked by her parents. Pushing the thought of Ron mindlessly spouting off some useless piece of trivia about the Chudley Cannons, Hermione found herself thinking again about Harry Potter. Nathan didn't talk about his brother a lot, but when he did it was usually with a smile on his face and about some fun thing they had done growing up together. It was clear that Nathan cared about Harry.

After Harry had dragged Nathan out of the Great Hall following the mountain troll fiasco, Hermione was worried that Harry was going to hurt Nathan. Harry did not look happy when he came over to talk to them, and Hermione admitted to herself that she probably didn't make the situation any better by being snappish towards him. Before they had become friends, she had overheard Nathan telling Ron once that Harry knew a lot of spells and curses before they even stepped foot into Hogwarts, and, naturally, Hermione was concerned for her new friend.

She had followed the two boys out of the Great Hall from a distance and watched them enter a classroom. Hermione had tried to listen in on the conversation from outside the door, but she wasn't able to hear a single word that was spoken. Not even muffled noises were coming from the other side of the door. Realizing that she might be caught, Hermione had walked to the end of the hallway and waited. After a while, the door opened and Harry walked out shaking his head and looking less than pleased.

Once Nathan left the room, and didn't appear to have been cursed or hexed by his brother, Hermione asked him if everything was alright. Nathan had assured her that everything was fine, and that Harry took what had happened surprisingly well. Although after some questions, Nathan did admit that Harry had threatened to hurt him if he ever did something as stupid as shoving his wand up a troll's nose ever again.

As Hermione reflected, that was probably the only time she could think of at which she had seen Nathan and his brother interact for longer than a minute of two. As she entered her own compartment, her curiosity about Nathan and Harry's relationship was piqued.

"…so that's why I think the Cannons have a real shot next year."

"Ron," Nathan said, exasperated, "there is no way that the Cannons will ever get Gibbs to leave Puddlemere. They could offer him all the gold in Gringotts and he would never accept."

"Are you two _still_ talking about Quidditch!"

"Hermione, Quidditch is important," Ron said seriously.

Refusing to be baited, Hermione turned to Nathan. "Can I ask you a bit of a personal question?"

"Umm, alright, I guess."

"What's the deal between you and your brother?"

Nathan looked at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you don't really talk to him a lot, but you don't seem to dislike him or anything. So I guess I was just curious."

"I…well, it's hard to spend time with him," Nathan said slowly as if only now realizing just how little he had seen of his brother this term. "We don't share any classes with the Ravenclaws, and I've got Quidditch practice four times a week."

"He's also always in the _library_," Ron muttered.

"There is nothing wrong with studying, Ronald," Hermione snapped.

"Relax, Hermione, I didn't mean it like that," Ron said quickly.

After glaring at Ron for a moment, Hermione asked, "So you and Harry get along then?"

"Yeah, of course we do," Nathan said without hesitation. "Why?"

"Oh, well, I just saw him in a compartment." Hermione smiled. "I thought he was you at first, actually."

Nathan laughed. "Please. We look nothing alike."

"From a distance you do," she insisted. "The only real difference is your eye colour and the way you do your hair."

"Maybe," Nathan acquiesced. "But would I be around a bunch of Ravenclaws talking about magical theory or whatever boring stuff the Ravenclaws discuss?"

"No, but neither was Harry. He was just sitting in a compartment reading a book."

"Really?" Nathan asked, surprised.

"I thought it was a little strange as well," Hermione admitted. "I know I saw Su Li, Lisa Turpin, and Terry Boot in another compartment so there are definitely other Ravenclaws on the train."

Standing up, Nathan said, "I should go see if he wants to join us."

"Don't worry about it, Nathan," said Ron. "We're going to be getting to London in, like, ten minutes anyway, right Hermione?"

"True," Hermione agreed. "It would be a waste of time for you to walk to his compartment, convince him to join us, and bring him here only for him to leave a few minutes later. He'd has to go get his stuff when we arrive."

Nathan looked at the door for a moment before consenting to his friends' opinion; he'd talk to Harry at home later anyway.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Necessary Conversations**

**Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, London... **

Stepping off the train at platform nine and three-quarters, Harry scanned the crowd looking for his parents and brother. The platform, while not as busy as the first of September, had a good number of people milling around searching for family members.

Harry eventually found his parents standing next to a red-haired couple, who could only be the parents of Ron Weasley. A younger redheaded girl stood next to her mother with wide eyes and an excited look on her face. Harry briefly wondered just how many Weasleys there were. He knew Ron had twin brothers that were in their third year as well as a fifth year brother who was a prefect.

"Mum, Dad," Harry greeted with a smile.

"Harry." James happily pulled his oldest son into a hug before looking around curiously. "Where is your brother?"

"Oh, um, I'm not sure. We didn't sit with each other on the ride back."

Lily glanced down at her son, concern evident in her eyes. "Why not?"

"I was talking to Professor Flitwick, and I arrived late to the station. Nathan had already found a compartment, and I didn't want to search the entire train trying to find him."

"Well... alright," James said hesitantly, deciding not to press Harry in a public setting. He'd ask Nathan later if they'd had some sort of falling out. "How was your first term?"

Not really wanting to talk about his first term at Hogwarts, Harry turned to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. "I'm sorry for not introducing myself, sir, ma'am. I'm Harry Potter, it's nice to meet you."

"Such a polite young man." Mrs. Weasley smiled at Lily and James.

"It's nice to meet you as well, Harry," Mr. Weasley said, subtly guiding an embarrassed looking girl forward. "This is our daughter Ginny. She will be at Hogwarts with you starting next year."

"Are you excited about Hogwarts?" Harry asked, trying to be polite.

Ginny just nodded her head, appearing uncomfortable for some reason.

Seeing that Ginny wasn't about to talk and being in no mood to coax a conversation out the girl, Harry turned his attention to the discussion between his parents and the Weasleys.

"...completely agree, Arthur. Perhaps Boxing Day would work?" James asked.

"Unfortunately, we'll be in Romania 'till the 28th, James. We're going to visit my son Charlie who works at a dragon preserve."

Harry could only shake his head. There was _another_ Weasley in Romania? How many kids did these people have?

"Ooooooo, Mum, is that him?" Ginny squealed.

Slightly surprised by the quiet girl's outburst, Harry turned to where Ginny was frantically gesturing. The girl was practically jumping up and down at the sight of Nathan, Ron, and Hermione. Harry shook his head in annoyance – he had a feeling that it wasn't the sight of her brother or the Muggle-born witch that suddenly had Ginny excited.

Looking up at his father, Harry was hoping to see him give the girl a reproaching glare for her annoying fangirlishness. Unfortunately, his dad simply looked amused by Ginny's antics.

"Ginevra, it is not polite to point," Mrs. Weasley chided, while sending an apologetic look to the Potters.

"Mum, Dad," Nathan said arriving with a bright smile, "these are my friends Ron and Hermione."

"It's very nice to meet you both," Lily said kindly.

"It's nice to meet you as well, Mrs. Potter," Hermione said as Ron was getting what looked to be a back-breaking hug from his mother.

Harry couldn't help but notice that Ginny had yet to look away from Nathan. It was slightly disturbing.

"How long have you been waiting here?" Nathan asked his dad, seemingly oblivious to his creepy redheaded stalker.

"Harry got here a few minutes ago, and before that we were speaking with the Weasleys."

"How are we getting home?" asked Harry.

"Portkey that the Headmaster was kind enough to make for us," James answered. "Now, tell me. Did you two pull any good pranks?" Seeing that Lily had suddenly turned around to glare at him, James quickly added, "Because I would hate to have to punish you over the break if you did."

"No," said Harry, "I didn't really do any pranks."

"And I've been really busy with Quidditch," Nathan added.

"I know. Minerva wrote and explained how you had made the team. I'm very proud of you, Nathan. Youngest Seeker in over a century," James said excitedly. "I know your uncles have been over the moon about it as well."

"And how are you grades, Nathan?" Lily asked sternly. "You're not letting them slide because of Quidditch, are you?"

"No, Mum. I think I'm doing alright," Nathan said hesitantly.

"And you, Harry?" Lily asked.

"I think I did very well this term."

"Nathan, I need to go find my parents. I think they're waiting for me on the other side of the barrier," Hermione said.

"Oh, why don't I go with you so you aren't by yourself," Lily offered with a smile. "I remember how hard it was to sometimes find my parents because of the Muggle-repelling ward on the platform. Honestly, I've told Albus that he needs to find a way to help the parents of Muggle-borns get onto the platform for the Christmas holiday and the end of the spring semester. Having children wandering around King's Cross looking for their parents is just asking for trouble."

"Why didn't the charm affect them when we came here on the first of September?" Hermione asked, clearly hoping to learn more about the magical world.

"Your ticket to get on the Hogwarts Express was charmed to let your parents pass the Muggle-repelling ward on the platform for that instance," Lily explained as she led Hermione towards the Muggle part of King's Cross.

"Well, Ron, I'll see you in January. Enjoy Romania," Nathan said.

"Thanks. I still can't believe my parents are letting me go when Percy and the twins are staying at Hogwarts," Ron said smugly.

Harry snorted slightly. If all the time he had seen Percy hanging around Penelope Clearwater was any indication, Harry wasn't surprised that Percy would want to stay at Hogwarts since Penelope wouldn't be going home this break. As for the twins, Harry heard that their best friend Lee Jordan was staying at Hogwarts as well.

"Ron, Ginny. Come on, we've got to be going," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Coming, Mum. I'll see you later, Nathan," Ron said before leaving with his sister and parents.

"So, boys, how was your first term?" James asked.

"Great! Hogwarts is awesome, Dad, just like you said," Nathan said happily.

James smiled at his son's exuberance. "Harry, how do you like being in Ravenclaw? I remember back in my fifth year, Sirius, Remus, and I charmed that stupid knocker to speak in limericks after it wouldn't let us into the Ravenclaw common room."

Before Harry could answer, Lily arrived with a smile on her face. "Nathan, your friend Hermione seems like a very intelligent girl."

Nathan just rolled his eyes. "Hermione's a genius. She's the only person I know who spends as much time in the library as Harry."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Harry smirked. "We'll see who's laughing after our grades are delivered."

"I'm sure you both did well," James said, stopping any argument that might develop between his two sons. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bizarrely multicolored striped sock.

Lily looked at the sock and shook her head slightly. "I honestly don't know what Albus was thinking, choosing that to be a Portkey."

"I try not to contemplate why Albus does half the things he does, Lily. Fruit punch," James said, activating the Portkey and sending the Potters back home.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Potter Residence, (Dec. 20** **th** **)...**

_Harry, _

_I'm writing you to let you know that the first term grades have been scored, and that Filius did indeed send out your transcript to Durmstrang as he promised to do. _

_That is the good news. _

_Unfortunately, I also have some bad news to report to you. _

_Your first term grades have been scored. _

_Now, as you know, I am not allowed to discus a student's scorecard prior to receipt of grades in the mail; however, I will say that your insistent complaints about the easiness of your exams were well founded. _

_Now, to the reason I am writing you. Filius has been acting slightly off ever since your meeting with him on the 16_ _th_ _. He has not been his excessively chipper self, which is very strange, especially around the holidays. Many members of the staff are concerned, but he has not yet told them the reason behind his less-than-joyous attitude. _

_Recently, Filius has taken to disappearing into his quarters, only showing up at meals. Also, he has begun asking everyone about how much free time they might have available next term to tutor a student. It is my opinion that now that Filius has seen your scores and is aware of your potential, he will not let you leave Hogwarts without a fight. _

_I am positive that Filius will soon be informing other members of the staff about your decision to leave Hogwarts. From what you have told me, your family is somewhat close with Headmaster Dumbledore as well as Professors McGonagall, Snape, and even Filius himself. It could easily get back to your parents that you desire to transfer. _

_I know you wanted to wait until after you know you have a spot at Durmstrang to tell your parents about wanting to leave Hogwarts, but you might want to consider telling them before they hear it from someone else. _

_The best of luck, _

_Professor _ _Quirinus_ _ Quirrell _

Harry scowled as he put down the letter. What was he going to do? He didn't want to tell his parents that he wanted to leave Hogwarts unless he was _positive_ that Durmstrang had accepted him. He knew that he would have to fight his parents to get them to understand why he would want to leave, and he really didn't want to have that argument unless he knew Durmstrang would have a spot for him.

Still, if Quirrell was right, Professor Flitwick would tell the other teachers or Headmaster Dumbledore about him wanting to transfer. He had to stall Professor Flitwick somehow.

Sitting down at his desk, Harry took out a piece of parchment and a quill.

_Dear Professor Flitwick, _

_I know we weren't able to meet for very long in your office before I had to leave..._

**ooo0000ooo**

**Uncomfortable Discoveries **

**Potter Residence, (Dec. 22** **nd** **)...**

"Hey Harry," Nathan said, entering his brother's room, "Mum wants to talk to us."

"Oh?" Harry asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "What did you do now?"

"Nothing," Nathan said a little too quickly. "Well, nothing that would get you in trouble."

"Whatever," Harry said as he and his brother went downstairs and into the living room where their mother and father were talking.

"Harry, Nathan, your mother has just gotten off the fellowphone with the Grangers," James said brightly. Harry and Nathan both snickered at their father's intentional mispronouncing of the Muggle device.

Lily shook her head. "James, stop being stupid. Anyway boys, your father and I have discussed it, and we're going to be having a small party on New Year's. As of right now, the only people who are coming are your uncles, the Weasleys, and the Grangers. Harry, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to invite anyone from Hogwarts? Albus will be providing Portkeys for everyone so we don't have to worry about giving away the secret to the Fidelius Charm."

Harry shifted nervously. "Ugh, no, I'm good," he said before making an excuse and going back upstairs to his room.

"That was strange," James commented.

"I know," Lily said in concern. "He's been acting a little 'off' lately. Nathan, did anything happen at Hogwarts?"

"I'm not sure," he said, feeling slightly guilty that something might be wrong with his brother and he hadn't realized. "I… well, Harry and I weren't able to spend a lot of time together this last term, so I didn't get to talk to him a lot."

Lily appeared surprised. "Why weren't you able to spend time together?"

"You didn't get into a fight, did you?" James asked. "Harry mentioned that you two didn't sit together on the train ride back home."

"No, we didn't get into a fight" Nathan said quickly, "It's just...he's in Ravenclaw, and I'm in Gryffindor. We don't share any classes, and I've been really busy with Quidditch and everything."

Lily and James shared a disbelieving look. "So you didn't talk to each other for an entire term?"

Nathan shook his head. "No, we did... just not a lot."

"Who does Harry spend time with?" asked Lily intently. "I know we've spoken about Ron and Hermione, but somehow I can't remember Harry ever mentioning _his_ friends."

"I--I really don't know," Nathan admitted.

"I don't like the sound of this," Lily muttered. "Nathan, try harder. Can you think of anyone that Harry is close to at Hogwarts or might have mentioned as being a friend?"

Nathan thought back. He recalled all the times he saw Harry studying in the Library surrounded by books, but never people. At meals, his head always down, never involved in conversation. The happy smile on his face whenever they talked, and the brief flash of annoyance whenever Nathan had to leave and do something with Ron or Hermione.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Nathan remembered Hermione's comment about Harry sitting alone on the express. "I--I can't think of anybody."

"Nathan, why don't you go fly outside," James ordered. "Your mother and I need to talk."

Reluctantly, Nathan nodded his head and went outside. He didn't go flying though; he was too disappointed in himself. Sure he was busy at Hogwarts, but he should have recognized something was bothering Harry. He'd make it up to his brother next term. He'd make time to hang out with him, even if it meant hanging out in a library for a day studying. Nathan smiled slightly, Hermione would probably like that plan.

Once Nathan was outside, James turned to his wife. "Do you think I should go talk to Harry?

"I don't know, James," Lily muttered. "Merlin, I knew something seemed off with Harry."

"What do you think we should do? After how quickly Harry left, he clearly doesn't want to talk about it."

"He's probably embarrassed, James. How would you feel?"

"I honestly don't know," James admitted. "I met Sirius on the express along with Remus and... _him_. I never had a problem with friends at Hogwarts after that."

"I can't believe Nathan," Lily said, the disappointment evident in her voice. "He should have realized something was wrong. I don't believe that tripe about how being in different houses means they didn't have time for one another. Severus and I were in different houses and that didn't stop us from being best friends for the longest time."

James smartly swallowed the comment he wanted to make about Snivellus. Lily and the greasy git had reconnected several years ago and had been steadily rebuilding their friendship. They had even started to do some Potions research together. It had at first bothered him, but he had smartly swallowed his pride and never said anything. He had Lily, and he knew that she loved him. Snivellus wasn't worth fighting with his wife over anymore.

"So what do we do about Harry?" James finally asked.

"I think we should let him come to us," Lily said after a moment of thought. "I don't want him to feel bad over Christmas, and Harry knows he can trust us with anything. If he hasn't talked to us about his problems by the start of the new year, we'll sit him down and talk to him about it."

"I hope you're right."

"Me too, James. Me too."

**ooo0000ooo**

**O is for Outstanding**

**Potter Residence, (Dec. 26** **th** **)...**

"So Nathan actually didn't catch the snitch, Dad." Harry smirked at his blushing brother. "He swallowed it!"

"We still won," Nathan said indignantly as his brother and father laughed uproariously. This just wasn't fair. He couldn't even defend himself. It wasn't like he could tell his parents that someone had been jinxing his broomstick –they'd have him off the team faster than he could say Quidditch.

"I'm sure you played well, Nathan," Lily said with a smile hinting at the corner of her mouth. "Your father and I will try our best to see your next game at Hogwarts." Nathan beamed at his parents as they all sat around the kitchen table having brunch.

The sound of fluttering wings interrupted their meal as several owls entered from an open window. Two immediately flew towards Harry and Nathan while the third owl settled next to their mother. "Must be your first term scores," Lily commented. "Albus said they would be getting sent out soon."

Harry quickly removed the owl of its burden and opened the letter. He read and then re-read his scores. While he thought his tests were easy, it was still hard to believe. He had perfect scores. Straight Outstandings. A note at the bottom of his letter from Professor Flitwick said that he hadn't missed so much as a single point on his Charms, Transfiguration, Defense, or Potions exams, and that Harry was first in his year.

"So how did you do?" James asked.

"I got an outstanding in Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense," Nathan said happily.

"That's excellent, Nathan," James said happily. "How about you, Harry?"

"Yes, Harry, how did you do?" Lily said, putting down her letter and looking intently at her older son. "Perhaps your scores will explain why Filius sent me a letter asking to meet with us on New Year's along with Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall?"

Harry sighed. Apparently the letter he had sent to his Head of House hadn't done as good of a job as he had hoped.

"Well, Harry?" James asked.

"I got Outstandings in all my classes," Harry said somewhat defensively. Did his parents really think he would have done poorly?

James took his son's score card and whistled appreciatively. "Wow, I don't think even you got scores this good, Lily."

Lily looked over her husband's shoulder and her eyes widened slightly. "I know I didn't. Harry, this is an incredible score card. Can you think of any reason why Filius would want to meet with us after seeing scores this good?"

"Maybe," Harry said shrugging his shoulders. "I have to go send a letter."

Harry quickly stood and left the table. A few seconds later, Harry was up the stairs and in his room. A silencing charm on his door ensured that his scream of frustration wasn't heard by anyone.

Flitwick must have told Dumbledore and McGonagall about him wanting to leave Hogwarts. That could be the only reason for all of them showing up on New Year's. They were all going to try to talk him out of transferring. At least Professor Flitwick hadn't outright told his parents that he wanted to transfer, so his letter had apparently done something to convince his Head of House. Still, it was going to be hard enough to convince his parents that he wanted to leave Hogwarts. Now that he had the Headmaster, his Head of House, and Professor McGonagall to deal with as well, he was going to need a plan.

Taking out a piece of parchment, Harry quickly scribbled out a letter.

_Dear Professor Quirrell, _

_My grades came today along with a letter from Professor Flitwick to my parents..._

**ooo0000ooo**

**A Decision That Will Live in Infamy **

**Potter Residence, (Dec. 31** **st** **)...**

"So, Harry, only one term at Hogwarts and you're already in so much trouble that the Headmaster, Deputy Headmistress, and your Head of House all need to show up to talk to your parents about you, huh?" Sirius teased.

"Padfoot, shut up. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, Harry," said Remus. "Your first term grades were incredible, so I doubt you'll be in any trouble. Besides, I know the Headmaster was planning on spending New Year's here anyway and Minerva was invited as well, so perhaps Filius just wants to talk to you or–"

"Maybe he'll give you an award for being the smartest Ravenclaw, ever," Sirius said with a bemused expression. Harry couldn't help but smile. His uncles always had the ability to make him laugh, even now, as he was nervously awaiting his professors' arrival.

With a whoosh of displaced air, Harry saw the Grangers arrive with Professor McGonagall. At least Harry assumed it was the Grangers. Judging from the lack of red hair, he knew it wasn't the Weasleys, and the three people around Professor McGonagall had crashed to the floor upon arrival; clearly the result of a lack of experience traveling by Portkey.

"That was incredible," Mr. Granger said after climbing to his feet. "It was like riding a roller coaster but without being strapped into anything." From the look on Hermione and her mother's faces, the two female Grangers did not appreciate the style of travel nearly as much.

Mrs. Granger cast a weary sidewise glance at the innocent looking dishtowel that had managed to transport them across the country in a matter of seconds. "You weren't kidding when you said traveling by Portkey was something you had to experience to understand Professor."

"When will Hermione learn how to make those?" Mr. Granger asked.

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, alerting Professor McGonagall and the three Grangers to their presence in the room. "I think I could teach the little lady how to make them if you really wan–"

"Sirius Black, you will do no such thing," McGonagall snapped. Turning to Mr. Granger, Professor McGonagall drastically softened her tone. "Portkey creation is highly restricted, and it isn't something that Hogwarts typically teaches its students. The only reason I was able to acquire one for us to use is that the Headmaster, in his roll as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, is allowed to make them. I do not even want to postulate a guess as to why you, Mr. Black, know how to create them."

Sirius appeared scandalized. "Minerva, I'm hurt. Do you really think that I would ever do anything, _untoward_ with a Portkey?"

"Remus, it is good to see you again." Minerva smiled, ignoring Sirius's question.

"Professor, it's always nice to see you as well," Remus replied. "I understand you've gotten another Potter to win the Quidditch Cup for you."

"Yes, well, I couldn't have such talent watching a match from the stands, could I?" Minerva asked before turning somewhat serious. "But I suppose introductions are in order. Mr. and Mrs. Granger, Hermione, allow me to introduce Remus Lupin, and that lecherous man standing next to him is Sirius Black."

"In case you couldn't tell, I was Minerva's favorite student," Sirius said in a stage whisper to Harry.

Mr. Granger walked over and extended his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Remus, Sirius. Now, is this the young man who has somehow captured my daughter's heart?" he asked, looking at Harry.

"Dan, don't embarrass our daughter," Mrs. Granger chided. "We've only been here for a few minutes. We'll have plenty of time for that later."

"Mum!" Hermione exclaimed, looking at her mother in horror.

"I'm _Harry_ Potter, sir. Nathan is my brother, but I'm in Hermione's year at Hogwarts," Harry said as he politely shook Mr. and Mrs. Granger's hands. "It's nice to see you as well, Professor."

"Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said kindly.

"So, Minnie, are you going to tell us what the big hush-hush secret meeting tonight is all about?" Sirius asked as he draped an arm over his old Head of House's shoulder. As Sirius escorted Professor McGonagall out of the living room, Harry was willing to bet that his transfiguration professor was fighting the urge to turn into her cat form and scratch Sirius's eyes out.

Harry saw Mr. Granger fight back a laugh at Sirius's actions while both Hermione and Mrs. Granger seemed to be sending very reproachful looks at him.

"Mr. Black…"

Sirius pouted. "Seriously, Minerva, why do you call James, Lily, and Remus by their first names, but I'm still Mr. Black?"

"Because they have all proven that they are adults," Minerva snapped. "When you grow up, I will call you something other than Mr. Black. Now take your arm off of me this instant, or I will make sure that you spend the rest of the evening as a pincushion!"

Sirius immediately removed his arm and took a step away from the irate transfiguration mistress, causing everyone to laugh and Professor McGonagall to look smug.

"Secret meeting?" Hermione asked Harry curiously.

"Don't worry about it," Harry said. "Sirius was just, well, being Sirius."

"He's certainly immature," Hermione huffed, clearly disapproving of Sirius' actions.

"Sirius was at Hogwarts with my dad and mum. They were all Gryffindors and have known Professor McGonagall for a long time, Hermione. They also fought in the war together," Harry said, defending his godfather's actions.

"Well," Hermione said, though a bit less judgmental, "he could still use a bit better manners."

Before Harry could reply, Nathan, Lily, and James entered the room.

"Hi, Nathan," Hermione greeted with a bright smile. "These are my parents."

"It's nice to meet you sir, ma'am."

"You as well, Nathan. Hermione has told us a lot about you," Mr. Granger said.

"Err…nothing bad, right?"

Both Grangers just smiled at him in a knowing way, and Nathan shot Hermione a reproachful look.

"Oh please, I just said that you should spend more time on your studies instead of playing that silly game."

"Silly game!" James said in mock horror. "Surely you're not talking about Quidditch, young lady?"

"I sincerely hope she is," Lily said seriously. "Nathan could use someone reminding him that the world doesn't revolve around that sport." Everyone in the room laughed as Hermione blushed at being simultaneously approved and disapproved of by the Potters.

"Lily, it's good to see you again," Mrs. Granger said kindly.

"You too, Emma. This is my husband James, and children Harry and Nathan."

"Yes, Dan and I met Harry earlier, a very polite young man..."

Harry blushed and wandered away, leaving the adults, and Sirius, to discus whatever it is that adults talk about.

"So did McGonagall say anything?" Nathan asked catching up to his brother.

Harry looked uncomfortably at Hermione for a moment. "No, though Sirius did try to ask."

"Say anything about what?" Hermione asked curiously.

Nathan was about to answer when there was another whoosh of displaced air, signaling the arrival of the Weasley family. Harry, Nathan, and Hermione walked back to the living room in time to see Ron and his sister picking themselves up off the ground.

"I suppose we should say hello to his parents," Hermione instructed as she led them over to the Weasley family.

The introductions to the Weasleys didn't take nearly as long as with the Grangers. Harry and Nathan had already been introduced to them at King's Cross, and Ron quickly dragged Nathan and Hermione away as soon as the basic pleasantries were done. That left Harry standing next to Ginny Weasley, who, once again, seemed to be in a state of stunned silence.

"So, Ginny," Harry said, trying to think of anything to engage the girl in conversation. "Do you like Quidditch?" he eventually asked out of desperation.

"Yes," she mumbled shyly.

Seeing that the girl wasn't about to elaborate, Harry left to find his brother and his friends –at least they knew how to talk properly. After not finding them anywhere downstairs, Harry went upstairs and was about to enter his brother's room when he heard Nathan say, "I think we should talk to Harry about it."

Curious, Harry continued to listen.

"Are you sure that's smart?" Ron asked. "You said it yourself, your brother likes Snape. He'd never believe us."

Harry scowled. Just great, his brother was going to blame Snape for something. Harry had heard the rumors about how Snape treated his brother in his classroom. While Harry thought it wasn't exactly fair, he had written his mother and she had explained it somewhat to him. Apparently, Snape and his father did not get along at school, and Snape now saw Nathan as James re-incarnate, obsessed with Quidditch and more interested in joking around than doing school work. Harry's academic prowess in Potions had been enough for Snape to realize that he was more like his mother than his father, and Snape had not treated Harry badly at all.

"...I couldn't find him in the library, I doubt Harry would know," Hermione said.

Harry cursed himself for not paying attention. Find who in the library? And for that matter who was Granger to think she was better than him? He was top in their year, not her!

"Alright, I just thought he could help," Nathan said.

"Maybe he could," Hermione said hesitantly. "We just have to make sure he won't tell anyone what we suspect."

"We can trust him," Nathan said certainly.

What was going on? Trust him with what? Why was his brother keeping something secret from him?

"Harry?"

Harry quickly turned around and saw his uncle standing at the top of the stairs. "Oh, hey Uncle Sirius. I was just looking for Nathan."

"Well your mum sent me to get everyone, dinner's ready."

"I'll get Nathan," Harry said as he knocked on his brother's door. A moment later the door opened, revealing his slightly guilty-looking brother.

"Hey Nathan, dinner's ready," Harry said, pretending that he hadn't heard anything between Nathan and his friends.

"Oh, alright. Ron, Hermione, dinner's ready."

"Great! I was getting hungry," Ron said, quickly leaving the room and going downstairs.

"Harry," Sirius said in a surprisingly serious tone that instantly grabbed Harry and Nathan's attention. "Professors Dumbledore and Flitwick are here. They want to talk to you and your parents after dinner."

Harry simply nodded his head and ignored the very curious look that Hermione was sending him as they walked downstairs. Arriving in the dining room, Harry immediately took an open seat next to Remus, two seats down from Professor Flitwick, who he acknowledged with a nod.

"Well now that everyone's here, we can begin," Lily said as she casually waved her wand, causing a knife to rise in the air and cut several pieces of the roast in the center of the table. Once the roast was sufficiently cut, every plate rose up and one by one had a piece of meat, some vegetables, and potatoes placed on it before it went back to its owner.

"Amazing," Mrs. Granger said in awe.

Lily laughed. "If you think that's nice, imagine not having to do dishes ever again. My mother thought that was the single greatest benefit of magic."

Immediately conversations started to pop up around the table. Sirius was unsuccessfully trying to convince Professor McGonagall that the catnip that was sent to her for Christmas was not from him. Professor Flitwick, Lily, and Mrs. Weasley began explaining the different charms that were rather common around the house to the three Grangers. James, Sirius, Mr. Weasley, Nathan, Ron, and, surprisingly, Professor Dumbledore were discussing Puddlemere's chances at winning the title this year.

"You have nothing to be worried about, Harry," Remus said.

"No, I know," Harry answered. "I'm certain I'm not in trouble."

"Really?" Remus asked with a raised eyebrow. "So if you know you aren't in any trouble, why are you nervous?"

"I'm not."

Remus just smiled and tapped his nose. "Harry, you smell nervous and anxious. If you know you are not going to be getting in trouble, what is there to worry about?"

"Well... how would you feel if the Headmaster, Deputy Headmistress, and your Head of House all showed up to talk to you when you were a first year?"

"I'd be terrified." Remus recalled meeting Dumbledore when he was ten and being frightened to death that the man would hate him for being a werewolf.

"Still, you're not scared," Remus said, seemingly thinking out loud. "So, wait a minute, do you know what this is about?"

Harry fidgeted nervously. He didn't want to lie to his uncle, or anyone for that matter. So far he'd just been avoiding the question or giving half-truths, but he hadn't lied.

"Harry?" Remus asked again.

"Well, I might have an idea what it's about."

"Then why didn't you tell anyone..." Remus trailed off as a very large and imposing eagle owl began pecking against the window with a letter tied to its leg.

Lily flicked her wand and opened the window. The owl flew towards Harry, landed on the back of his chair, and extended his leg, showing the letter that was tied to it. Harry quickly untied the letter and gave the large bird a piece of meat.

Looking down at the letter, Harry saw the Coat of Arms for Durmstrang: a double-headed eagle sitting on top of a skull, and a flag with the words Durmstrang Institute emblazoned across it. Harry nervously opened the letter – he was so focused that he didn't realize that all other conversations had stopped around the table.

_Mr. Potter, _

_It gives me great pleasure to award you admission to the Durmstrang Institute of Magic. Since you are a transfer student, your letter of acceptance is due no later than the 6_ _th_ _ of January, and you will be required to take several placement tests. The tests will be administered by a Durmstrang _ _r_ _epresentative at the British Ministry of Magic on January 8_ _th_ _. Once your testing has been complete, you will be given a book list and a Portkey that will take you to the school on the 11_ _th_ _ of January. _

_Congratulations, _

_Demetri Überzeug_

_Assistant to the Highmaster_

"Harry?" Professor Flitwick asked, breaking the silence.

Harry smiled broadly. "I got in."

"In where?" Remus asked as he picked up the envelope. He glanced at it for a moment before he turned to face Harry, shock registering on his face. "Why?"

"What's going on, Harry?" James asked. "Remus, who was that letter from?"

"It's a letter... from Durmstrang," Remus said in disbelief.

Lily's eyes widened. "Harry, why are you getting a letter from Durmstrang?"

"While the timing is unfortunate as it has interrupted our meal," Dumbledore said, standing up, "Harry, I believe we should have that discussion now."

Professor Flitwick immediately stood, and he was quickly followed by Professor McGonagall.

"Is there a comfortable place we can talk in private?" Dumbledore asked.

"The living room, but Albus, what exactly is going on? Why do you all need to talk to Harry?" Lily demanded.

"Harry, you said you wanted to wait," Professor Flitwick gestured to the letter, not looking particularly pleased. "Well, you have your answer."

Reluctantly, Harry realized that the moment had finally come, and he couldn't put it off any longer. "Mum, Dad, I don't want to go back to Hogwarts."

"What!" James and Nathan exclaimed simultaneously while Sirius simply stared at his godson incomprehensibly.

"Harry," Lily asked hesitantly, "why on earth don't you want to go back to Hogwarts? You're first in your year."

Ignoring Hermione's surprised gasp, Filius took charge. "Lily, James, perhaps this is a conversation that is best done in private?"

Seeing that both the Weasleys and the Grangers were staring at Harry, Lily quickly agreed. "Very well, Arthur, Molly, Dan, Emma, excuse us."

As all the Potters, Sirius, and Remus stood up and followed the Professors out of the dining room, Harry heard Ron say, "He's a loon, why would anyone want to leave Hogwarts?"

The Headmaster led everyone into the Potter's living room and once everyone was settled, cast a series of locking and silencing charms, ensuring that they wouldn't be overheard.

"Alright. Now what is going on, Harry?" James asked.

"Why don't I begin," Filius said, noticing Harry's hesitancy. "Earlier this month, Harry approached me asking that I send out a copy of his transcript to Durmstrang. I did not get a chance to inquire why he was interested in transferring, but he seemed to have done some research about it, otherwise he would not have known to come to me about sending out his academic record. Harry then sent me a letter on the twenty-second politely asking that I not tell anyone about his desire to leave Hogwarts until he was certain that he would be accepted at Durmstrang. He, understandably, felt that his family would be against such an idea, and he did not want to have the discussion unless he knew he had a spot at Durmstrang. I had just finished informing Albus and Minerva about your potential transfer, Harry, when your owl arrived. After looking at your scores, we knew that you would be accepted... how could you not be?" He ended a tad bit bitterly.

When Filius fell silent, Professor Dumbledore continued. "I inquired from a contact at Durmstrang and found out that they would be sending you a positive response and that it should arrive by today."

"Which is why we all came tonight," McGonagall stated. "We knew that a decision would need to be made soon, and we wanted to speak with you beforehand."

"Alright, that explains why you're here," Lily said. "But why do you want to leave Hogwarts, Harry?"

"I just don't like it," Harry said quietly.

"What exactly don't you like about Hogwarts, my boy?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

"And why didn't you come to me with any problems you might be having?" Flitwick asked.

"I did, sir," Harry protested. "I went to you, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape. You all told me that I was too young to learn advanced material; that everything at Hogwarts would get harder for me, but it never did! I'm so bored in class, sir."

"You were reading a third year Transfiguration book," Nathan blurted out. "That wasn't just a one-time thing, was it?"

Everyone turned to look at Nathan, and then back at Harry. All of the professors looked surprised at that bit of information. "Mr. Potter, is that true? Are you really that far ahead?" Professor McGonagall asked in astonishment.

"Yes. Madam Pince has been helping me find good books on theory so that I'm not confused by some of the advanced material."

"That's incredible," Flitwick said. "What about Charms?"

"I've been reading an older edition of the third year Charms book since late October."

"Mr. Potter, just how did you get this far ahead of your peers?" Dumbledore asked curiously.

Lily sighed. "That may be my fault. Harry asked me to teach him magic a few years ago."

"But, and I mean no offense, Nathan's grades are not perfect in four classes," McGonagall said, apparently still amazed that the boy in front of her could be so far ahead.

"I admit that while I taught the boys the same material, Harry has always been more... enthusiastic about it," said Lily. "I knew he was sneaking some books out of our library to read, but I didn't realize just how advanced they were. He didn't have a wand, so I never thought reading ahead would give him too much of an advantage."

"Mr. Potter, just how far ahead where you when you entered Hogwarts?" asked Dumbledore. "And how have you shown such a command for magic when you only had your wand for a month before classes started?"

Harry let a grin cross his face. "I might have only had my wand for a month, sir, but I've been getting ready to do magic for my entire life. I studied the theory, and I practiced the wand movements all the time. Since I knew I was magical, and I knew the right incantations and wand movements, it was easy for me to make the spells work. Most of the spells in my first year book I got on my first or second try, and a lot of the second year spells didn't take me too long to master."

Filius could only shake his head in amazement. "Unbelievable."

"Well, this is rather…unprecedented," Dumbledore mused. "Not even I was so advanced or comfortable with my magic when I began Hogwarts."

"But why Durmstrang?" Sirius interjected. "You know they _teach_ the Dark Arts there, don't you, Harry? Why not Beauxbatons? At the very least they have a bunch of pretty French girls."

"Durmstrang encourages people to study advanced magic, and they let people move ahead of their peers into harder classes. I could easily test into my second or maybe even third year in a bunch of classes." Harry couldn't help but grow excited as he spoke about the possibility of moving ahead in classes. "And because they teach the Dark Arts, they don't have a restricted section in their library. That means I can learn advanced charms and transfiguration without needing a pass to take out the advanced material."

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes slightly. "Where exactly did you learn this from, Harry? What you are speaking of is not common knowledge for someone who has never been to Durmstrang, and I know of no book in the Hogwarts library that would mention it."

Harry froze. Professor Quirrell has specifically mentioned not to say anything about how close they were, and Harry was not about to betray the closest thing to a friend that he had at Hogwarts. "Well, I wrote to the Highmaster asking what Durmstrang could offer me, and he wrote back explaining how Durmstrang was superior to Hogwarts."

With a noticeable sigh, Dumbledore removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Yes, Igor has always believed that Durmstrang should be considered the premier school of magic in Europe; however, I am surprised that he took the time to write you back Harry. Igor Karkaroff has never been one for friendly conversations, especially with students."

"Karkaroff!" exclaimed James. "Igor Karkaroff is the Headmaster of Durmstrang? Well, that settles it. Harry, you are not stepping one foot inside that school!"

"What! Why not?"

"He was a Death Eater, Harry. This is not up for debate," Lily agreed.

Harry looked confused. "But if everyone _knows_ he's a Death Eater, why isn't he in prison?"

"Igor claimed to have a change of heart and revealed several key Death Eaters before the Wizengamot," Dumbledore said hesitantly.

"So… he sold out a lot of Death Eaters to get out of prison?" Harry asked.

"Essentially, yes," Dumbledore acquiesced.

"But if he realized he was wrong and gave up the other Death Eaters…"

"Harry, Igor did unspeakable things for Voldemort," Dumbledore said, causing everyone else in the room to flinch. "He betrayed his fellow Death Eaters to avoid Azkaban. It had nothing to do with any sudden moral objection."

"But if something happened to me at Durmstrang, everyone would just assume that he did it," Harry argued. "He'd be right back in front of the Wizengamot answering questions, and there is no way he would be released a second time."

"Igor is very clever, Harry, and he is ruthless," Dumbledore warned. "If he wanted to harm you, he could very easily facilitate it by means that would not reflect directly on him."

"I'm not stupid, sir, I'm not going to be walking around at night unsupervised. Plus, don't the Professors at Durmstrang have to take oaths that they won't harm a student and grade fairly? Since they usually only accept purebloods, Durmstrang had to make sure that feuds between families wouldn't spill over between faculty and students."

"That…is true," Dumbledore admitted, "and once again you have demonstrated a piece of knowledge that typically does not leave Durmstrang. I take it Igor wanted to assure you of your safety?"

"Wait. Just wait. I am _not_ comfortable with this," James said, stopping Dumbledore and Harry's discussion. "Not at all, Harry. I don't care that Karkaroff can't do anything; I don't want a Death Eater near any of my children. It's bad enough that I have to put up with Sn–"

"James," Lily hissed angrily, "you promised."

"Sorry," he muttered, not sounding at all apologetic.

"Harry, what if I agreed to give you the extra lessons you requested?" Filius asked.

Harry's eyes widened. Private lessons with Professor Flitwick would be amazing. "Would I still have to attend Charms class? Or could I maybe move into a more advanced class?"

Flitwick looked at Dumbledore, who shook his head slight. "No, Harry, you can not be moved ahead."

"Then that doesn't solve the problem," Harry said adamantly. "I'd still be bored, and I'd have to do a bunch of essays and take tests on stuff I learned ages ago."

"Harry, that is a very generous offer from Professor Flitwick, you should consider it," Lily said.

"I understand that, and I do appreciate it Professor, but…well, Mum, Dad, can I talk to you and the professors in private?" Harry asked his parents hesitantly. He didn't want to do this, but it was looking like Quirrell was right.

Everyone appeared surprised that Harry didn't want his uncles or brother in the room.

"You can say anything in front of Sirius and I, Harry," Remus said softly. "You know that."

"I--I know that, but it's…well, it's embarrassing," Harry admitted truthfully.

Lily and James shared a look with one another and seemed to come to a conclusion. "Sirius, Remus, Nathan, please give us a moment."

After a surprised glance at Lily and James, Sirius, Remus, and a protesting Nathan got up and left.

"What's this about, Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"I… well, I wasn't exactly being one hundred percent truthful about why I wanted to leave Hogwarts," Harry said, his face turning red. Taking a deep breath, Harry opened his mouth several times before gathering the courage needed. "I--I don't have any friends." Looking up, Harry saw the confusion on Professors McGonagall and Flitwick's faces while his parents looked deeply saddened, but not surprised. The worst though was Professor Dumbledore. The man Harry considered a grandfather just stared deep into his eyes until, slowly, an expression of pained understanding appeared on his face.

"What do you mean, Harry?" Flitwick asked.

Harry didn't have to use the charm that Quirrell told him would fake tears as he felt a few fall on their own. "I don't have any friends, sir. All the other Ravenclaws hate me."

"Harry," Lily said softly, "why didn't you tell us?"

Harry just shrugged his shoulders and did his best to hide his embarrassment.

"What about your brother?" James asked, wanting to hear Harry's opinion on the matter.

"He's really busy," Harry said quietly, "and whenever we do hang out, he brings Ron with him."

"You don't like Ron?" Lily asked.

"All he does is talk about Quidditch and make fun of me for wanting to study," Harry said with exasperation. "When Nathan and I actually _are_ talking or studying together, Ron complains about being bored and eventually Nathan and him go fly, or play chess, or explore the castle, or do something else I'm not interested in."

James frowned. "Have you told Nathan about this?"

"No," said Harry bitterly, "it's not like we hang out all that much anyway."

"You said you don't get along with your housemates?" Filius asked in concern.

Harry couldn't keep the anger from showing on his facing, surprising everyone in the room. "They're just obsessed with knowing about the Boy Who Lived. They don't even care about getting to know me."

Filius shook his head, trying to think of ways to resolve this. "Have you given them a chance to see you as a different person?"

"Of course," Harry snapped out in frustration, "but just because I tell them that Nathan wasn't trained by the Headmaster from birth to be the next Merlin, they all think I'm jealous of Nathan for being the Boy Who Lived. It's not like they're even interested in getting to know _Nathan_, all they care about is the myth of the Boy Who Lived. I know they are Ravenclaws, sir, but they are a group of complete idiots!"

James snorted and was sent a reproachful look from both Filius and his wife. Wisely, he shut up.

"And then," Harry continued angrily, "after they realized I'm smarter than them, they started saying all kinds of awful things about me behind my back! Then they had the gall to be upset with me when I refused to help them do their homework the day it's due. I hate them, sir. I hate them!"

To say that the three Hogwarts professors were stunned was an understatement. Filius was horrified at what had been going on seemingly under his nose. McGonagall was surprised that Harry Potter, the normally polite and kind young man, was speaking with such rage towards his peers.

Finally, Albus Dumbledore was truly concerned. The anger Harry had just shown reminded him of another boy. A boy who also had a tremendous control over his magic from a young age and let his anger and loneliness destroy him. No, Albus had seen firsthand what had become of Tom Riddle, and he would not, he could not, allow Harry, who was like a grandson to him, to fall the same way that Tom had. But was allowing Harry to transfer the answer? A long time ago Gellert had spoken to him at length about Durmstrang, and he knew that the school wasn't evil as many people made it out to be. They had, after all, expelled Gellert when he pushed the boundaries of what was acceptable.

"Mr. Potter, Harry, why didn't you come to me with your problem?" Filius eventually asked.

"It was embarrassing, sir," Harry said honestly, "and there was nothing you could do. You can't make someone be your friend."

The prolonged silence that filled the room was palpable.

"Please let me transfer," Harry practically begged.

"Harry, are you sure this is what you want?" Lily asked, deeply saddened by what her son had just told them. It was every parent's nightmare to have your child feel alone, and what had been happening to Harry at Hogwarts simply broke her heart.

"Yes, please."

"Albus, do you think Harry would be safe at Durmstrang?" Lily asked, ignoring James's protest.

"Harry is correct that the faculty at Durmstrang would not be able to do him harm magically; however, Harry, you should know that Durmstrang does enforce corporal punishment as discipline. There is also the student population that could prove to be dangerous."

Thankfully, Quirrell had prepared him for this objection. Without hesitation, Harry said, "Nott, Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Flint, Parkenson, and Travers." When Quirrell had written and listed all the children, nieces, and nephews of confirmed or rumored Death Eaters, Harry had initially been horrified, but he privately admitted that the information would indeed be useful to convince his parents.

"A valid point," Dumbledore conceded. "Voldemort did recruit most his followers from England, and so you are unlikely to find as many of his supporters' children at Durmstrang, which caters to a more international group of students."

"You're forgetting Karkaroff," James insisted. "He might not be able to magically harm Harry, but what about non-magically? You said that Durmstrang employs corporal punishment. What does that entail?"

Dumbledore grimaced. "Durmstrang's punishment system is very similar to what Hogwarts had before I became Headmaster and eliminated what I considered unsavory practices. Whippings, floggings, and being chained by your wrists or ankles are not uncommon forms of discipline."

"I, Harry, I'm sorry," Lily had tears in her eyes. "I will not allow you to be persecuted by Igor Karkaroff! The answer is…"

"No," Harry said desperately. "I won't get into trouble. I promise. I've never gotten a detention at Hogwarts, and I won't at Durmstrang. I swear."

"It might not be that simple Harry," James explained. "Karkaroff could instruct his professors to hold you to a higher standard than the rest of your peers. I admit I'm not fond of the idea of you leaving Hogwarts, but I absolutely refuse to send you someplace where you could be hurt.

Harry looked around the room, hoping to find someone that would come to his aid. At first glance, Flitwick appeared sad, but the slight glimmer in his eye told Harry that Flitwick was secretly pleased that he would be staying at Hogwarts. McGonagall, likewise, looked troubled by Harry's story, but she did not appear at all sympathetic towards him wanting to leave Hogwarts. Harry could see some tears forming in his mother's eyes as he silently begged her to reconsider, but she shook her head slightly. Turning to look at his father, Harry immediately knew that he had no chance of convincing him.

Desperately, Harry looked at Professor Dumbledore. The typically constant twinkle in his grandfather's eyes was gone, replaced by a look of deep sadness and pity. When it appeared that Dumbledore as well would not lift a finger to help him, Harry felt his anger grow. After everything he had said, after everything he explained, after revealing his most embarrassing secret, his family and professors didn't care. They all wanted him to go back to Hogwarts. It wasn't fair!

Suddenly, a bookshelf located directly behind Harry exploded, showering the room with splinters, and causing everyone to jump in shock. Everyone, that is, except Harry and Dumbledore, who simply continued to look at Harry with growing concern. Meeting his professor's eyes, Harry tried to convey the anger and betrayal he was feeling towards everyone in the room.

"Perhaps," Dumbledore said, redirecting everyone's attention from the destroyed bookshelf, "I might be able to help. Lily, James if your only concern for sending Harry to Durmstrang is his safety, I shall go speak with Igor personally. I happen to have in my possession a few pensieve memories of him acting on Voldemort's orders outside of England. Our Wizengamot might have given Igor a pardon, but that doesn't mean other countries wouldn't be interested in finding the person responsible for a few unsolved crimes. That should certainly provide the proper _motivation_ for Igor to not only treat Harry fairly, but to ensure that he is well looked after."

It took Harry all of three seconds to process what Dumbledore had said before he jumped out of his seat, and, with a look of pure joy on his face, hugged his grandfather. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Albus, I don't understand," Lily said in confusion. "If you had this evidence, why haven't you used it already? Karkaroff does not deserve your protection!"

"Lily," Albus said wearily, "had I given the evidence to the other ministries immediately after Igor left Britain in 1981, there was a strong possibly that he could have evaded justice. Igor was a very talented duelist back then, and he was completely ruthless. I have no doubt that should he have managed to avoid the Aurors, he would have gone underground and continued to harm innocents. By allowing Karkaroff to take an honest profession, where he knows I am watching him, he has been partially held in check. Now that Igor has grown accustom to a certain lifestyle at Durmstrang, he will fear my evidence much more than he would have ten years ago."

"So can I go Mum? Dad? Please!" Harry begged.

James looked at his son's pleading face. If Albus could promise Harry's safety... could he really tell Harry no? A quick glance at Lily told him that she had already accepted Harry leaving Hogwarts and wouldn't be much help if he wanted to force his son to stay. Sadly, James knew that there was only one option left for him to choose. "Harry, if Albus can assure your mother and I of your safety, I, well, I suppose we can let you transfer."

Smiling brightly, Harry hugged his parents and began explaining just what was involved in the transfer process.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Outside in the hallway...**

Sirius canceled the eavesdropping charm. "Not a word," he said to Nathan and Remus. "Harry can never know we heard."

"But I should say something," Nathan protested. "I need to apologize."

"How do you think that would make him feel?" Remus asked, shaking his head sadly. "He clearly didn't want us to know, Nathan. You would just make him feel bad. It wouldn't make him change his mind."

"But he's leaving and it's my fault! I should have spent more time with him."

"Nathan, this isn't your fault. You didn't make the other Ravenclaws dislike Harry."

"But it is," Nathan argued. "If I wasn't the Boy Who Lived, Harry wouldn't have had those problems."

"Nathan we can't change who we are," Sirius said, trying to calm down his nephew.

"I should have done something, though," Nathan said, tearing away from his uncles and running up the stairs to his room. He didn't notice the concerned looks that the Grangers and Weasleys sent him as he passed the dining room.

**ooo0000ooo**

**A Parting of Ways**

**Potter Residence, (Jan. 11** **th** **)...**

Surveying his room, Harry was pretty sure that he hadn't forgotten anything. He was departing for Durmstrang soon, and he definitely didn't want to leave anything at home by mistake. His trunk was packed to its magically-expanded brim. While Durmstrang required casual day robes like Hogwarts, they had to be specially-cut red robes with the Durmstrang crest magically embroidered on them. Durmstrang also required that he buy several heavy Russian-made ushankas and tsigeika coats. The heavy coats were lined with special built-in heating charms, and Harry couldn't imagine a situation where he would ever want to wear such a coat. He had practically started sweating after trying on the thing at Madam Malkin's. Durmstrang couldn't possibly be that cold.

Harry had taken his tests at the Ministry of Magic, and was quite proud to say he had surprised the examiner with his skill. He was actually ahead in third year Charms and Transfiguration theory, but he was slightly behind in the practical aspects. Because of that, he had been granted tentative acceptance into third year classes in Transfiguration and Charms. If it appeared that he couldn't keep up with the practical work, the instructor had the option to send him down to the second year class after a month. Harry also managed to enter second year classes in Potions, History of Magic, and Herbology. His final two courses would be first year Dark Arts and Spell Crafting.

It had initially surprised him that Astronomy was not a core subject at Durmstrang, but Spell Crafting was a class that seemed very interesting. He had only glanced through his book, but the amount of effort it took to create your own spell was astonishing. When Harry had mentioned this to his mother, she had recommended he write to Professor Snape as he had created several spells while at Hogwarts.

If Harry was honest with himself, he admitted that he could have tested better than he did on his Dark Arts exam. He certainly felt that he could have tested into his second year for that class, but with his father standing in the room watching him perform the spells for the Durmstrang representative, Harry was hesitant to show just how much Quirrell had told him about the Dark Arts. While he didn't know a whole lot, it was still more than _any_ Hogwarts first year should have known. Plus, it would be a hard claim to sell that he learned some basic Dark Arts at Hogwarts. It's not like he was allowed into the Restricted Section to look at those books.

Confident that he had everything packed, Harry casually levitated his trunk behind him and walked out of his room and downstairs. He immediately saw Nathan sitting at the kitchen table and looking unhappy.

Harry hadn't seen much of his brother of late, and that wasn't Nathan's fault. He had been very busy not only preparing to take his tests at the Ministry of Magic, but also trying to learn as much German as he could before he went to Durmstrang. Professor Dumbledore had visited for at least an hour every day since Harry had sent out his acceptance letter, and he had personally been helping Harry learn how to read, write, and speak in German.

The charm that helped someone learn a language worked by momentarily enhancing the part of the brain that dealt with understanding languages. During the period that the charm was active, the person it was cast on should be completely immersed in the language he was trying to study with no outside interruptions. Fortunately for Harry, Professor Dumbledore was fluent in German, along with several dozen other languages, and had taken the time out of his busy schedule to help him get a grasp on the language.

Dumbledore had said that some people take to the language charm better than others. A few rare people like the Head of the Department of Magical Cooperation, Barty Crouch, only need the charm on them for an hour or two before they could begin speaking fluently. Unfortunately, it seemed like Harry was on the other side of the spectrum as he had the charm placed on him for well over ten hours, and he still only had a rudimentary grasp of German. Harry didn't even want to think about what he would have done if it wasn't for Professor Dumbledore. Going to a new school in a foreign country was scary enough, but not even having the slightest grasp of the language would have been downright terrifying.

"All packed?" Lily asked.

"Yes," Harry said as he levitated his trunk to the ground and took a seat at the table.

James smiled sadly at his son. It bothered him that one of his sons wouldn't be graduating from Hogwarts. "How long until your Portkey activates?"

"The letter that came with the Portkey said it will activate at ten this morning, so another twenty minutes or so," Harry said after doing a quick _tempus_ spell to check the time. "They said that someone will be waiting for me when I arrive, but I have no idea where I am going."

"Durmstrang's location has been a secret since the school was built, Harry," Lily commented. "I'm not surprised they won't tell you where it is until you are there."

"It has to be somewhere in Germany," Harry said certainly.

"That's what everyone seems to think," James agreed. "Albus knows, but he refuses to say. Something about an oath he took as a member of the ICW. With the sheer amount of heavy cloaks you had to buy, I think it's somewhere in Northern Russia."

"Maybe it's in Siberia," Nathan said, smiling slightly. "You'll wish you were at Hogwarts if you're stuck way up north freezing your butt off."

"Language," Lily chided. "I doubt Durmstrang is in Siberia, Harry. From my experience, purebloods seem to be rather…pampered."

"Hey," James protested indignantly.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Please, like you weren't spoiled rotten as a child."

"Just because my parents showed me a lot of affection…"

"James, had you and Sirius pooled your monthly allowances, you could have bought all the chocolate at Honeydukes. Anyway, Harry, the point is, I doubt Durmstrang, which is far more popular for purebloods, is going to be anywhere truly unbearable like Siberia."

"I hope you're right," Harry mumbled.

"And if you're stuck in Siberia, you can always transfer back to Hogwarts," Nathan added.

That was the second time his brother had hinted that he should go back to Hogwarts in less than two minutes. If Nathan was trying to be subtle, he was not doing a very good job. "I'm not going back, Nathan."

"But, but you might," Nathan said hesitantly. "You never thought you'd leave Hogwarts, so you don't know that you won't hate Durmstrang."

"I suppose you're right, but I doubt it," Harry said, trying to nicely convey the message to his brother that short of having an Unforgivable shot at him, he wasn't going to be leaving Durmstrang. He'd seen what Hogwarts could offer him, and even if he was friendless at Durmstrang, at least he'd be able to study any magic he wanted there.

"Well, I still think you should think about it," said Nathan. "Maybe you could ask Dumbled–"

"Nathan, enough, your brother is not going to be going back to Hogwarts," James said. "Please try to accept that."

Nathan looked ready to argue, but Harry quickly cut off whatever his brother was planning on saying. "Nathan, I don't want to fight, but I'm not going back to Hogwarts."

"This is stupid, you shouldn't leave," Nathan said with tears forming in his eyes.

Lily sighed. Sirius and Remus had told her that they had used an eavesdropping charm and that Nathan was taking Harry leaving very badly. "Nathan, this is your brother's decision, and your father and I support him."

"But, please Dad, I know you don't want Harry to go to Durmstrang."

"No, Nathan. I don't like that your brother is going to Durmstrang," James said honestly, "but the decision has been made."

"Harry, just stay, please?" Nathan begged. "I'm sure Professor Dumbledore would let you back into Hogwarts."

"Nathan," Lily said sternly, "please don't make this any harder for your brother."

There was a soft chiming sound, and Harry took out the Portkey that Durmstrang had provided him. "Five minutes," he said softly.

Lily pulled her older son into a tight hug. "Harry, please be safe, and write to your father and me often. We want to know that you're alright."

"I promise."

"Seriously, Harry, write often. I know what you said about your professors taking those oaths, but there are ways around everything," James said as he too hugged his son.

"I promise, Dad."

As the chiming sound got louder and Harry noticed his Portkey starting to glow, he turned to face his brother. "I guess I'll see you over the summer." Seeing the dejected look on Nathan's face, Harry quickly added, "but that's not so long from now. I even get out of school before you, so I'll be there on the platform when you get back from Hogwarts."

"Yeah, I suppose so," Nathan said turning away so that his brother wouldn't notice a few stray tears.

As the letter started to flash red, indicating that the Portkey would activate in ten seconds, Harry smiled at his family. "I love you, I promise to write and tell you everything about Durmstrang."

"Harry, I'm sorry," Nathan blurted out.

Confused, Harry turned to his face his brother. "Sorry about what?" he asked as the Portkey activated, taking him to Durmstrang.

"For everything," Nathan said softly to the now empty spot in the kitchen where his brother was standing not a second before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, allow me to clear something up. Durmstrang will not be a Miranda Flairgold style super!school. Harry will not learn Necromancy, Bloodmagic, or Soul Magic. Durmstrang is a school that teaches a curriculum similar to Hogwarts with the exception of having Spell Creation in place of Astronomy (which will be an elective during Harry's 3rd year). I always thought it was odd that Hogwarts didn't have a class on Spell Creation, especially since we know that it's possible to make your own spells. Please note that there will be nothing about Arithmancy or Ancient Runes involved in the Spell Creation class. Arithmancy is, according to canon, a means of doing divination with numbers, and Ancient Runes is a language.


	4. Durmstrang Spring Part 1

**A Cold Welcoming **

**Location Unknown, (Jan. 11** **th** **)...**

Harry had used Portkeys before, so he thought he knew what to expect. While there was the typical jerk behind the naval as soon as the Portkey activated, he was not instantly deposited at his location like most of the Portkeys Professor Dumbledore had made for his family over the years. Instead, Harry was spun around in a swirling vortex for what seemed like several minutes. Harry was just starting to get dizzy from spinning around in circles when he felt his feet abruptly smash into the earth.

Harry hadn't fallen from a Portkey in years, and his experience with how to properly land was the only thing that saved him from collapsing in a heap on the ground.

Two things immediately assaulted Harry's senses the moment he landed. The first was that it was dark. If Durmstrang wasn't known to be somewhere in Europe, Harry would have sworn that he had traveled to the complete other side of the globe. He had left his home at ten in the morning, and it looked like the middle of the night where he had arrived. Looking up at the stars, Harry could perfectly see several constellations, and the only hint of light came from a faint reddish glow in the distance.

Knowing that he must be very far up north, Harry's senses quickly alerted him to something else. It was very cold. A sudden gust of wind kicked up, and Harry nearly screamed at the bone chilling rush of cold air. Cursing himself for not putting on the heavy furs he had been instructed to buy at Madam Malkins, Harry cast a warming charm, however, not even that was enough to completely keep out the cold. Desperately, Harry looked around for the Professor that was supposed to be meeting him.

"Impressive," commented a man with a Slavic accent, "I had thought you vould fall like the rest of your countrymen. You haff much practice with Portkey travel, Potter?"

Harry turned in the direction of the voice, but he could only make out the slightest hint of a person standing in the darkness. Slowly, Harry's eyes began to adjust, and the speaker came into view. It was a fairly tall, yet thin, man dressed in very thick red robes. He had long dark hair that reached down from beyond a heavy fur hat, and a pair of cold dark eyes that didn't look like they belonged to anyone who ever smiled.

"A little, sir," Harry replied in German.

"Ah, you haff come prepared," the man replied, flawlessly switching to German. "That is good. I am Dominque Grausam, your instructor for the Dark Arts. Now, you follow me."

Harry nodded and began to follow his Professor down an icy path that seemed to wind through the snow around them. As they walked, Harry did his best to ignore the temperature by surveying the landscape around him. The dim light made it difficult to see very far, but Harry was fairly certain that he could make out mountains in the distance.

"Sir," Harry said, testing out his German. "It cold much here. No?"

Professor Grausam glared at Harry before saying, "You need more time vith the language charm, Potter. That vos some of the most disgusting German I haff ever heard. Say in English if you are not able to speak decent German. At least then I do not feel the desire to hit you vhen you speak."

Harry couldn't stop his face from flushing in embarrassment. "It's a lot colder than I expected, sir."

"You are stupid, Potter," Grausem said mockingly, "Do you think ve tell you to buy heavy coat for fun?"

"Where are we, sir?" Harry tried to keep his voice respectful, but between the cold and his professors attitude, he was growing very impatient.

"Ve are in the Kautokeino province."

Harry stopped walking and looked at his professor in complete confusion. "Where?"

"Norway you stupid boy. Ve are in Northern Norway."

Surprised, Harry asked, "Sir, if we are in Norway, why did I need to learn German?"

Grausam sneered. "If everyone thinks that Durmstrang is somevhere traditionally German speaking, they don't look for school here."

Harry slowly thought out that logic. It actually made a lot of sense if you were seriously that paranoid.

"You vill get your first look at the castle soon,.

Reaching the top of a large hill, Harry's mouth dropped open at the view. The reason for the reddish glow he had noticed earlier became all too apparent when he saw a massive row of torches that illuminated the road ahead. The path stretched for about a half a mile until it dead-ended into an intimidating four-story castle that stood out amongst the barren, snow-filled, terrain. In fact, with the exception of a nearby Quidditch stadium, Durmstrang was the only landmark that Harry could see anywhere.

"Umm...wow." Harry tried to hide his disgust at the uninspired looking fortress in the distance. While Hogwarts had a welcoming and majestic appearance, Durmstrang looked like it was built to withstand a siege. Large outer-walls defended the building and the interior structure had no impressive towers or monuments. Since it was smaller than Hogwarts, Durmstrang covered a much larger portion of ground and seemed to stretch for some distance. However, nowhere was Harry able to see any discernible change in architecture or design. In fact, Durmstrang appeared almost block like. Trying to think of something to say, Harry simply muttered, "Ugh, are there wards?"

"Ja." Grausam sent a look of disgust at Harry for his unenthusiastic response at first seeing the school. "Ve are unplottable, and the Muggles think that this area is uninhabitable."

Harry had to bite his tongue to stop from telling his new professor that the Muggles had it right, and that this area _should_ be uninhabitable. The remaining walk to the school was done in silence, and Harry got the impression that Grausam really did not like him. Wisely, Harry kept his thoughts to himself. It wouldn't do to antagonize a Professor on his first day at a new school.

As they entered the school, Grausam led Harry through a series of dark corridors. Unlike Hogwarts, Durmstrang did not have magical portraits hanging from its walls, nor did Durmstrang have the inviting feeling Harry had felt when he first arrived at Hogwarts. Durmstrang's corridors were lined with very formidable looking suits of armor, all of which were clutching some sort of dangerous looking weapons, and stone depictions of various magical creatures. The only lighting seemed to come from a series of torches on the walls, and these torches did nothing to provide any heat to the drafty corridors.

"That is the main hall," Grausam said gesturing to a pair of large, gold, double-doors to the right of them. "Velcoming feast is in an hour. You must be in attendance."

"Yes, sir."

"Make sure you cast language charm on yourself." Grausam instructed as Harry followed the man up an impressive central staircase."German vill be used at all times, no exceptions. Using other language is punished by vhipping." Harry swallowed nervously, but Grausam seemed to ignore him as he continued talking. "Classes are on the first, second, and third floors. Student quarters are on the fourth. I take you to your room now."

"I get my own room?" Harry asked excitedly.

Grausam simply sneered in response to the question, and Harry had to struggle to keep up with the man's purposefully long steps. As they reached the fourth floor, Harry saw several older students speaking in rapid German with one another at the top of the staircase.

"You are blocking the stairs," Grausam snapped in German, causing the group of older students to quickly disperse. "Potter, girls' rooms are to the right of staircase, boys' rooms on the left. Rooms are alphabetical, password for your room is transfer, be in the Main Hall in one hour for velcome feast." The Dark Arts Professor gave Harry a final look of disgust before turning on his heel and going back down the stairs, leaving Harry to find his room.

With a sigh, Harry took a left and began walking down the long corridor. As he walked, he briefly glanced at some of the names on the doors, which were written in fire on top of each doorway. Most of the names seemed to hint at a Slavic and Germanic ancestry, and Harry was actually pleased that he didn't recognize any of them. If there weren't a lot of English students, maybe he wouldn't have to put up with a lot of questions about his brother.

After a few minutes of walking down the corridor, Harry had come to the conclusion that alphabetizing rooms by last name was great if your last name started with A, B, or C, but for everyone else it was a pain in the ass. At least the person who thought of alphabetizing the rooms was a smart enough to periodically put bathrooms in the long corridor. Harry couldn't imagine the pain it would be to walk down the massive hallway every time he needed to use the loo or shower. Eventually, Harry reached a door that had the word "Potter" above it.

"Transfer," he mumbled. The lock clicked and Harry pushed the door opened. Any joy that Harry had at having his own room disappeared instantly. This wasn't a room; it was a prison cell! The room consisted of a single cot pressed up against the right wall, a desk against the left wall, and a wardrobe against the back wall. There was a small window that looked only just big enough for an owl to squeeze through next to the wardrobe. The room couldn't have been twelve feet deep and ten feet across, and it was freezing cold. With a groan of frustration, Harry levitated his trunk to the ground and busily began unpacking his things.

Far sooner than Harry expected, it was time for him to begin making his way down to the Main Hall for the welcoming feast. Casting the language charm that Professor Dumbledore had taught him, Harry departed his room and joined the mass of students who were making their way down the stairs, presumably heading to the Main Hall.

Harry tried to listen in on some conversations as he followed the crowd of students into the Main Hall, but found that his German was still not all that great. While he recognized several words, the speed the language was being spoken at was still too much for him.

Entering the Main Hall, Harry's first impression was to roll his eyes. Several long tables lined the hall, much like Hogwarts; however, the staff table at the front of the hall was elevated slightly, demonstrating a symbolic message that the staff was superior to the students and would look down upon them. In the center of the staff table, sitting in a large, almost throne-like, chair was the Highmaster. Karkaroff was laughing at something one of his professors had told him, and Harry could make out the man's distinctly yellow teeth.

Quirrell had told him that the seating for the Professors at Durmstrang were based on their tenure, importance, and favor they held with the Highmaster, who basically ran the school as his own private kingdom. Spotting Grausam sitting near the far left of the table, considerably far from the Highmaster, Harry was secretly pleased to see that the grumpy Dark Arts teacher wasn't exactly high up in the Durmstrang pecking order.

Taking a seat near the middle of one of the tables, Harry watched as the hall slowly filled up with students. A few older students looked curiously at him before ultimately deciding to ignore him and go about their conversations.

Once everyone seemed to be seated, Karkaroff stood and immediately the hall fell silent. Harry was slightly impressed, the only person he had seen quiet a room that quickly was Dumbledore. "I have two announcements to make before we begin the feast," Karkaroff began. "We have a new student this term. Raise your glasses and welcome Harry Potter to Durmstrang."

As one, everyone seemed to raise their empty golden goblets in front of them and said, "Harry Potter," but immediately after the glasses were put down several mummers of conversation could be heard around the hall.

"Mr. Potter has come from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Britain, and being..." Harry couldn't place the word Karkaroff said. "...and his excellent academic scores, he was deemed acceptable ... standards."

Most of the rumblings going on around the hall seemed to quell after Karkaroff's words, clearly whatever the Highmaster had said seemed to be accepted by most the students. "My second announcement is that due to the excessive ... that happened last fall. Using offensive magic in the corridors is punishable by … and two days of _…_ now."

Harry was frustrated that he couldn't understand what Karkaroff was saying, however, judging from the utter silence and the look of shock on several people's faces, the students were clearly uncomfortable with whatever the punishment was. Harry felt the tiniest bit of apprehension as he reminded himself that Durmstrang was not like Hogwarts, and he did not want to get into any trouble.

"Now that the announcements have been taken care of, let the feast begin!" Karkaroff decreed, causing plates full of food to appear along the tables.

As Harry put some mash potatoes onto his plate, he noticed several students, who couldn't have been much older than himself, sending dark glances in his direction. When one of them met his eyes and mouthed 'half-blood' before spitting on the ground in disgust, Harry felt a surge of resentment. He had hoped that Durmstrang would have been different.

**ooo0000ooo**

**How I Met My Friend**

**Transfiguration Classroom, Durmstrang, (Jan 12** **th** **)...**

Dirty, frustrated, and tired, Harry made his way into his last class of the day.

His first day at Durmstrang had been as awful as it could possibly get. In Dark Arts, Harry had attempted to introduce himself, but he could tell a few students didn't like him from the moment he entered the classroom. While there were a lot more students who seemed initially accepting of him, his poor German made communicating difficult, and Professor Grausam did his best to ensure that none of the other first years liked him by the end of the class.

Grausam seemed to hold Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts class in contempt for some reason, and he ordered Harry to duel several students to prove he could keep up with the material. Harry had fought and beaten a quarter of the class before Grausam angrily told him to sit down and to stop showing off. For the rest of the class, Harry had to deal with the angry glares and bitter comments, only half of which he understood, from all the students he had beaten.

Herbology was the first class that Harry felt could be considered superior to Hogwarts. Since very few magical plants were able grow in the arctic, the greenhouses at Durmstrang were enchanted to keep out the cold and the snow while protecting the artificial environment inside. There were dozens of these greenhouses with varied environments, and they allowed the students to experiment on many different exotic plants, even though the school's locations should have made that impossible.

While he was impressed by the system, Harry had struggled to understand what was happening in the class. Eventually, Harry realized that his teacher wanted him to transplant some Fanged Geraniums. Harry was bitten several times by the plant before, in his frustration, he blew a hole in the ground with a blasting curse and levitated the disgusting plant into it. Professor Guiles had not been pleased at Harry's unorthodox tactics in dealing with the ferocious plant, but since Harry hadn't _technically_ done anything wrong, he wasn't punished. He was, however, ranted at for several minutes after class by Professor Guiles. The only thing Harry took from the seemingly endless stream of angry German was that such methods were never accepted in Professor Guiles' greenhouse.

After his debacle in Herbology, Harry had eaten a brief lunch before heading off to his other first year class, Spell Creation. While initially excited at the idea of making his own spells, the moment Harry entered the classroom, Professor Cherny had given him an exam and told him to spend the class answering the questions while he lectured to everyone else. By the time the class ended, Harry was depressingly certain that he had answered only four of the twenty-two questions correct.

The entire first semester in Spell Creation was spent discussing how specific wand movements effect charms, transfiguration, and curses. With a very limited foundation to build upon, Harry didn't have a clue how to go about designing his own spells or altering existing ones. Professor Cherny seemed to have no interest in helping to catch him up, and Harry knew he'd need to work very hard if he wanted to pass the class.

Hoping to put an end to a very bad first day, Harry entered his Transfiguration classroom and took a seat near the back. Several students filtered in, and more than a few were surprised to see a first year sitting in their class. Several glared at him and even more asked him if he was lost. Fortunately, Professor Rosemburg entered from his office and the class settled down.

"As you all can see, Harry Potter will be joining us– " Rosemburg commented.

Before the professor could continue, the door opened and a fairly well-built black-haired boy entered the room, looking disheveled and embarrassed.

"Krum!" Rosemburg snapped angrily. "Why are you late to my class on the first day?"

"I'm sorry Professor, I was flying and I..."

"Fool! Do you really think I'll let you re-take this class again? Take a seat, and if you are late again I will … with … and I hope they will chew through your hands," Rosemburg snarled as most the class hid chuckles under their breaths.

"It will not happen again," Krum said as he turned to take a seat. Harry momentarily locked eyes with the boy and Krum seemed surprised to see someone new in the class. Krum weaved his way through the desks, and took a seat next to Harry.

"Now that Mr. Krum has graced us with his presence," said Rosemburg sarcastically, "we will begin. Several of you wrote to me over the holidays about your … and I have to say that I am not … with many of them. You are all … and incapable of thought. Potter!" he said suddenly, causing Harry to jerk his head up. "Do you have any … for your … perhaps something from Hogwarts that can be shared?"

Harry had no idea what Professor Rosemburg was talking about. "Sir, my German is still not well. I have language charm on, but there is much I know not," he replied hesitantly.

"Idiot boy," Rosemburg barked. "You transferred to Durmstrang without knowing German? Did you think we would all speak English just for you, Potter?"

"No, sir, I not think that," Harry said quickly as most of the class laughed at his poor grammar and pronunciation.

"You are useless, Potter," Rosemburg said tiredly, "How can you learn if you don't even know what I am saying?"

"I try my best, sir," Harry said now slightly annoyed at being called useless. "Language Charm not working well for me, I practice with it for long time."

"To stupid for the language charm to work properly for you, Potter?" the boy in front of him asked quietly.

Harry wanted snap that the language charm had nothing to do with intelligence; Headmaster Dumbledore had insured him of that! It was just that certain people reacted differently to it, or had a talent with languages. No one knew why, it just happened that way.

"If you … on being in my classroom," Rosemburg said, drawing Harry's attention back to the professor, "you will … and be silent, Potter, understood?"

Harry didn't understand, but he nodded his agreement anyway as Rosemburg began to lecture. Harry tried to keep up with what was being said but it was hard.

"You do not understand?" Krum asked quietly.

Harry turned to face the older boy. "No," he whispered, "I need more time with the language charm. I will learn."

"Do you have class after this?" Krum asked, speaking slowly so Harry could understand.

"No."

"Then after class I will help you. The more time you spend speaking and hearing German, the easier it will get."

"German isn't your first language?"

Krum shook his head. "I am from Bulgaria, but we need … attention, or else Professor Rosemburg will be angry with us."

The rest of the class was a struggle for Harry. By the time it was over, Harry understood that Professor Rosemburg was saying something about animate-to-animate Transfiguration, but a majority of the lecture was lost to him. Harry was very happy that Durmstrang didn't make him write many essays or take a lot of quizzes as there was no way he would have been able to answer anything over the lecture he just sat through.

When Professor Rosemburg announced the end of the class and instructed the students to read certain pages in their books before the next lecture, Krum stood up and motioned for Harry to follow him.

Krum led Harry out of the classroom and down the hall until they entered a pair of double doors that led to the Durmstrang library. Harry's eyes widened at the impressive collection of books and manuscripts that Durmstrang had collected. There were countless shelves filled with books that seemed to stretch to the ceiling. The thought of all those books, but being unable to read them was beyond frustrating to Harry, and he mentally committed himself to learning the language as quickly as possible.

"This way," said Krum, leading Harry through the library and into the back corner where a single table sat. Krum waved his wand and Harry looked at him, curious to see what the spell did. "A privacy charm," was Krum's abrupt response.

"Good idea. We wouldn't want to get kicked out."

"No, that would be very bad," Krum said darkly. "The librarian is very strict."

Harry nodded his head in understanding. If Madam Pince at Hogwarts had access to corporal punishment, who knows what she would had done to the students who disturbed the peace of her library.

"So...," Krum said awkwardly.

"Yeah, so..." Harry replied. "Do you not get along with the other kids here?"

"What makes you say that?" Krum asked defensively.

"Well," Harry said, trying not to upset the one person who had been nice to him. "Where I am from, friends would not laugh at you for getting yelled at by a professor."

Krum appraised Harry for a moment before nodding. "I suppose you are right. No, I do not get along with many. Most students think I am stupid after I dropped two classes during my first year."

"Why?" Harry asked curiously. "It is better to learn lots, no?"

"Yes, but I know what I want to do, and I did not need those classes."

"Oh?" Harry asked somewhat intrigued. "What do you want to do?"

"I have always wanted to become a great Quidditch player," Krum said wistfully.

"You sound like my brother." Harry laughed. "I think it's his dream to become a Quidditch star as well."

Krum scowled. "I do not _dream_ about being great, I will be great. I run through the snow everyday to build strength, I practice every day to get better, and I study strategy every night to understand the game. I _will_ become the greatest Quidditch player in the world."

Harry couldn't help but be impressed by Krum's determination. Nathan might have talked about being a great Quidditch player someday, but he didn't spend every waking moment pushing himself to become a great player like Krum was. Although, Harry mused, that was probably a good thing. Harry was sure his mother would kill Nathan if he spent every waking moment thinking about Quidditch.

"What position do you play?"

A slight smile crossed Krum's face. "Seeker. I have not lost a single match at Durmstrang."

"My brother plays seeker at Hogwarts, but he's not as dedicated as you. It is a lot of hard work to practice that much, no?"

"Yes," Krum said seriously. "I dropped Herbology and History of Magic after my first year to spend more time practicing. I was very worried I would fail Charms and Transfiguration last year, and I was fortunate that the professors decided to allow me to retake the classes. I must graduate Durmstrang. Every Krum for six centuries has managed it. I cannot break my family's tradition, but I will not give up what I love. Since I dropped two classes in my first year, and I am retaking Charms and Transfiguration, people believe me to be stupid. They call me 'broomloon' and think I am some dumb Quidditch player. I will prove them all wrong someday."

Harry grinned; he knew exactly what Krum was talking about.

Seeing Harry's grin, Viktor snapped, "You think it is funny what they call me? You think my goal is stupid?"

Harry's smile vanished. "No, I do not think it is at all that. I--I can... relate," he said, quickly trying to find the right words in German. "At Hogwarts, I spend a lot of time studying. I want to be a great wizard. The other kids, they all mock me for doing well. I understand you wanting something and doing what you must to get it. I leave Hogwarts because Durmstrang let me move up in years and gives me access to more knowledge."

Krum no longer looked angry; instead, he had a very thoughtful look on his face. "We are much alike, then, Harry Potter. So, what is your favorite class?"

Slowly, a smile crept onto Harry's face as he told Krum what he liked the most about magic.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Friendly Banter**

**Durmstrang Library, (Jan. 19** **th** **) **

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Viktor asked, looking up from his Potions book.

Dropping back into his chair, Harry shook his head. "No, it was checked out. I had to get a book on transfiguration."

"Are you still having trouble reading German?"

"A little," Harry said hesitantly, "Reading is much easier than speaking however. I still think in English, and you say I will eventually think in German, yes?"

Viktor nodded. "Once you start thinking in German, that's when you know the language charm has completely worked. I don't think you have much longer though. If you can read German, then it shows your mind is slowly starting to grasp the language. It will probably take you another few days, but you are making good progress. You no longer have trouble understanding people, right?"

"Yes, I understand now, but it is even more frustrating." At Viktor's curious look, Harry tried to elaborate. "I know what people say, so I want to talk and answer questions, but I know I sound stupid. Like in Charms, I try to answer question from Professor Kosarev about engorgement charm, but I make little sense. I hear how dumb I sound, and I hate it."

Much to Harry's surprise, Viktor just smiled. "But don't you see Harry, that's a good thing. You recognize that your German is poor, and you will improve because of it. It is just like in Quidditch. If I fall for another Seeker's feint, I will do my best to not make the same error again."

Harry laughed. "How is it that you can relate everything to Quidditch?"

"It's a gift, Harry. Besides, do not pretend that you did not enjoy my match yesterday."

Harry knew that Viktor was right. Quidditch at Durmstrang was an incredible spectacle. The entire school was obligated to attend every match, and often people who didn't care for the sport spent the time catching up on their homework. In order for the players to see properly during the night, the stadium was spelled with thousands of overhead lights, which, combined with the snow covered pitch, illuminated the entire field in an eerie white glow.

Since there were no houses to separate students, the teams represented a faculty member, who retained an incredible amount of control over the team. Winning the Quidditch cup was often more important to the faculty than the students at Durmstrang, and the professors took the game very seriously. They would routinely watch their teams practice and were known to remove their team's captain if they felt he wasn't selecting the best players for the team.

Viktor had been spotted during his first year doing intense aerial maneuvers by the Charms Master, Professor Kosarev, and, within a week, he had won the spot of starting seeker on the Charms team. In the only match Harry had seen so far, Viktor had led a Bludger right into the face of an opposing Beater, breaking the boy's nose and sending him flying off his broom. Later, Viktor had managed to trick the opposing Seeker into crashing into a box full of fourth year students, causing a few injuries to the students and knocking the other team's Seeker out of the match. Needless to say, Harry had been awed by his friend's ability on a broomstick.

"Yes, it was a good match," Harry admitted. "Have they released the other Seeker from the Hospital Wing yet?"

"No. I heard he fractured his skull. Stupid sixth-year should have known not to mark me so closely."

"You can be scary sometimes Viktor."

"I know," Viktor replied. "It is another gift."

**ooo0000ooo**

**Acceptance Is Unacceptable **

**Transfiguration Classroom, (Jan. 22** **nd** **) **

"Potter," Professor Rosemburg called out, "stay after for a moment."

Harry bid Viktor goodbye and waited for everyone to filter out of the room. When he was alone with the Transfiguration Professor, Rosemburg smiled. "I must say, Potter, I am impressed. When I heard that a first year was to be entering my third year class, I thought it had to be a mistake. Your contributions to the discussion today tells me otherwise. Where exactly did you learn about using Transfiguration in duels?"

"It was just something I read about at Hogwarts, sir," Harry replied, happy that his German had finally become passable.

"Mr. Potter." Rosemburg smirked. "I am somewhat familiar with the Hogwarts curriculum, and I know that battle-transfiguration is not a part of it. So, please, be honest."

"I really like transfiguration, sir, and I looked up a lot of advanced transfigurations on my own time." Technically, that was true, Harry thought. Professor Quirrell never specifically told him what to study in order to prepare for his 'lessons.' It was just something Harry had thought might be helpful. Unfortunately, the spells were far too advanced for him, but that didn't mean that Harry didn't find the entire idea fascinating.

"I see, well, I'm rather impressed, Mr. Potter. Tell me, have you ever tried any of the spells you mentioned today?"

"No sir, the spells all seemed really complicated, and I didn't have the time to practice them."

"Good. You could have hurt yourself trying to do that kind of advanced transfiguration. I'd say you are still a few years away from trying anything along those lines, Potter, but it is still impressive that you have actually researched the spells. Tell me, have you had any problems with the end of the year spell list so far?"

"I've only practiced a couple of them, sir, but the first few haven't been that difficult."

"Show me." Rosemburg took out a small mouse from one of his desk's drawers and placed it on the table. "Turn this mouse into another animal."

After a moment's hesitation, Harry waved his wand over the frantic creature, and, immediately, the small mouse's body began to shift and contort. The mouse's white fur soon became a sickly green skin, its head grew several inches, and the creature's legs coiled back.

Rosemburg cast a freezing charm on the toad to prevent it from hopping off his desk, and he began to closely inspect the creature. "A good job," he said slowly. "The only flaw I can detect is that the toad's eyes are somewhat pinkish."

"I'll work on it, sir."

"You do that Potter. I traditionally like to see my third years turn a rat into a cat or animal of that size by the end of the year. Right now I'd say you are a little behind the rest of the class in practical application, but if you work hard, you should be able to catch up by the end of February. If you need help with anything or have any questions, my door will be open to you."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said gratefully.

"Oh, and Potter, I'm glad that you were able to get the language issue resolved. I had hoped to talk to you about your place in the class after the first lesson, but with your rudimentary knowledge of German, it would have been a waste of my time."

"I understand," Harry said honestly, "thankfully Viktor was able to help me with the language charm."

"Krum?" Rosemburg asked in surprise.

"Yes, sir."

"Whatever works I suppose. Have a good day, Potter."

Nodding his head, Harry quickly left the room in a great mood. The language charm had finally taken, and today was the first time he had been able to properly communicate with his professors. While Grausam still seemed to strongly dislike him, and Professor Cherny continued to ignore his very existence, Professor Guiles had been pleased with his work in Herbology, and, clearly, Professor Rosemburg had been impressed with his transfiguration knowledge. Overall, Harry thought that the day couldn't have gone much better.

Turning the corner, Harry walked down the corridor that lead to the main staircase. As he was passing an empty charms classroom, however, he was violently slammed into the wall. Dazed, Harry dropped his bag, and he felt two sets of hands grab him. Before he realized what was happening, he was lifted up and tossed unceremoniously into the unoccupied Charms classroom.

Picking himself up off the floor, Harry turned around when he heard the door to the classroom slam shut. Facing him were four third-years from his transfiguration class, and they all had their wands pointed at him.

"I think we need to talk Potter," a large boy said casually as his three friends glared at Harry. "You see, I don't think you properly understand how things work at Durmstarng. You might be in our transfiguration class, but that doesn't mean you get to show us up."

"I didn't show yo–"

"_Silencio_," the boy said. "I was talking, Potter. Didn't your Mudblood mother ever tell you that it's rude to interrupt your betters?"

"I doubt it Marcos," another boy said. "Bitch probably spent too much time on her knees servicing his dad."

"True," Marcos replied, "How else could a Mudblood convince a Pureblood to sully their family line. Your mother must have a wonderful tongue, Potter."

Enraged, Harry drew his wand, only to be immediately disarmed by the second boy.

"What exactly were you planning on doing with this?" The boy mockingly asked, twirling Harry's wand.

Harry looked between the four boys warily. With no wand, he was a sitting target for them to curse at will.

"Now, Potter, before your violent little outburst, we were having such a pleasant conversation. We don't want to hurt you, but you seem to have it in your head that you're a real wizard. You're not. You're a half-blood, which means you're only half a wizard, and half-wizards can't do as well as real wizards. That just doesn't make any sense, does it?"

The boy currently twirling Harry's wand took a threatening step forward. "It's time that you begin showing the proper respect to your betters Potter, and you can start by not being such a fucking know-it-all. We know you probably inherited your mother's talented mouth, and you are probably eager to start sucking Rosemburg's cock, but that doesn't mean you get to do better than us. So, do we understand each other, Potter? _Finite_."

Fighting the urge to charge the boys with his fists for insulting his mother, Harry growled out, "I am not trying to make you look bad."

"Potter, Potter, Potter," Marcus said sadly. "This isn't a debate. Do you understand us or do we need to teach you a lesson?"

Looking between the four boys and their wands, Harry knew he should probably just agree and get out of this situation. He was disarmed and in an empty classroom, but he didn't come all the way to Durmstrang just to be intimidated into doing badly. Besides, Harry refused to give them the satisfaction of mocking him and his mother. He wasn't a half-wizard, he was better than them, and they knew it. "No," he spat, "It's not my fault you're all so stupid that you can't do better than a first year."

Harry knew it was unnecessary to mock them, but he didn't care, they were going to curse him anyway.

"Fuck you, Potter," Marcos snarled, "let's see how much better you are when you can't make it to class! _Perco_–"

Diving to the side, Harry hoped to avoid Marcos' first spell; however, before the curse could be completed, the door to the room burst open. From his spot on the ground, Harry looked up in time to see Marcos get blasted into the teacher's desk, and he didn't make to get up. Immediately, two other boys dropped to the ground from a pair of stunning spells, and Harry noticed that his wand was only a few feet away from him.

Without hesitation, Harry got to his feet and sprinted for his wand. Grabbing it, Harry stood up, and was halfway through the incantation for the full-body bind when the last boy crumpled to the floor unconscious. Turning to see who had helped him, Harry was surprised to Viktor standing over the fallen third year.

"Harry," Viktor asked in concern, "are you alright?"

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked trying to stop his body from shaking slightly.

"I saw your bag was ripped open outside the door, and I heard you speaking to people inside."

"Y-you helped me? W-why?"

Viktor frowned. "You're my friend."

"Oh," Harry said in embarrassment, "I-I thought you just wanted to help me with the language charm. I didn't think you'd actually want to... just never mind."

"Do you need to go to the hospital wing?"

"No." Harry gestured to the four third-years "What do we do about them?"

"Leave them," Viktor spat, "they'll wake up eventually. Come on, let's go get some diner."

"Okay...thank you Viktor."

"You are welcome Harry."

**ooo0000ooo**

**Learning Your Place**

**Durmstrang Library, (Jan. 31** **st** **)...**

"Hello, Lady Doktor," Harry said giving the resident Durmstrang librarian a charming smile. If there was one similarity between Hogwarts and Durmstrang, it was that both schools' librarians loved to talk –and brag– about their library. Harry had managed to endear himself to the normally short-tempered Durmstrang librarian after they had gotten into a long discussion about the differences between the Hogwarts and Durmstrang libraries. Lady Doktor was disgusted by Hogwarts' Restricted section, and she was very pleased when Harry told her that one of the reasons he came to Durmstrang was that they didn't have such a thing.

"Harry." Lady Doktor smiled at the boy. "What can I help you with today?"

"I'm returning this book," Harry said, placing a very heavy tome on animate-to-animate Transfiguration on the woman's desk.

With a wave of her wand, the book flew off her desk, presumably going back to where it belonged in the massive Durmstrang library. "Very well, is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Do you have any good books on revealing Charms?"

"Yes, one was just returned a few days ago." Lady Doktor casually summoned the book from one of the shelves behind Harry. "Would you like it?"

Harry nodded his head, and he soon found himself buried in the book's pages. The tome described everything from a simple 'Finite' charm that would reveal basic codes and hidden text, to the more advanced revealing spells such as _Homenum Revelio_, which would reveal any human near the caster, regardless of Disillusionment Charms or Invisibility Cloaks.

Glancing at his watch, Harry shook his head. Viktor was late again.

Ever since Viktor had saved him, Harry had done his best to repay his friend. Since he was in Viktor's Charms class, along with Transfiguration, Harry had decided to help his friend do better academically. While Viktor had already taken the classes, he had ignored the theoretical portion of Charms and Transfiguration for a long time, and it was partially the reason for his poor mastery of the spells. Since Harry had a strong background in theory, he did his best to help Viktor grasp some of the concepts that went over his head.

At first, Viktor tried to deny that he needed the help, but Harry wouldn't take no for an answer. Eventually, Harry was able argue that the better Viktor understood his Charms and Transfiguration theory, the easier the spells would be to cast, which would mean more time for him to play Quidditch and less time practicing spells. While it wasn't exactly true that learning theory made spells casting easier, Harry suspected that Viktor just needed an excuse to mentally justify accepting the help of someone three years younger than him.

Finishing up a very interesting chapter on the Homorphus Charm –a powerful spell that will force an animagus to retake their original appearance – Harry put the book in his bag. It appeared like Viktor had lost track of time again while practicing Quidditch. Getting up to go back to his room, Harry was thinking about the benefits of using the Homorphus Charm to stop his uncle Sirius from pranking him over the summer when he heard someone hiss, "_Ossis Fragmen_."

A moment later, Harry was on the ground screaming, his bag blasted clean off his shoulder as the bone breaking curse smashed into his scapula.

"Stay down, Mr. Potter," Lady Doktor commanded as she drew her wand and came out from behind her counter to search for the person who cast the curse. Harry didn't need to be told, it wasn't as if he thought he could get up anyway. Slowly, the pain in his back increased until it became too much for him, and he passed out.

**ooo0000ooo**

**The Megara Mystery**

**Hospital Wing, Durmstrang, (Feb. 1** **st** **)...**

Noise.

At some-point, Harry's senses became aware of it, and, slowly, he began to wake up. While he was groggy, the sounds around him became progressively clearer. There was a man and a woman, and it sounded like they were arguing.

"...can not send out that letter!"

"I am following your policy ... no choice in the matter."

"... was something else ... bone breaking curse ... like someone was actually trying to harm the boy."

"... what other purpose for using a bone-breaking curse ... wanted Mr. Potter hurt!"

At the mention of his name, Harry opened his eyes. He was laying face down on an uncomfortable bed with white sheets. Turning his head to the side, he saw numerous other beds lining the room. He was in the infirmary.

Slowly, the memory of what had happened in the library returned, and Harry became acutely aware of a horrible stabbing pain in his back. It felt like his back was covered in splinters and someone was periodically ripping them out, only to immediately replace them again. He grimaced and let out a slight whimper of pain, which quickly alerted the other occupants of the room of his consciousness.

"Mr. Potter? Mr. Potter can you hear me?"

Harry saw a large woman looking down at him in concern.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good," the woman replied happily, "I am Lady Shluga, the matron of the hospital wing. Now, Mr. Potter, you were hit with a bone breaking curse, and the damage was severe. I spent most of last night carefully vanishing all traces of the destroyed bone, and I dosed you with Skele-grow to replace your scapula. I'm sorry to say that you're going to be in for an uncomfortable few hours."

"Did you catch who did it?" Harry asked. He sincerely hoped that whoever cursed him was feeling just as much pain as he was at the moment.

"No," the Highmaster said, stepping forward. "We tried to find the person responsible, but the situation quickly drew the attraction of many students, and it's likely that your attacker slipped in amongst them to pose as a merely curious onlooker."

Harry felt his temper flair. Here he was getting his back rebuilt, and they hadn't even caught the person responsible. Did they even try? When he told his parents...

His parents!

If they found out that he was attacked within his first month of school, they'd have him out of Durmstrang within an hour. Biting his lip, Harry asked, "Do my parents know what happened?"

A worried expression appeared on Lady Shluga's face. "I was just about to send out the notice to your parents, Mr. Potter. I was too busy last night making sure that the various bone shards were not threatening any of your organs. However, now that you are out of danger and conscious, I will let them know of your condition."

"No," Harry said quickly, "please don't!"

"What?" Lady Shluga asked in confusion before turning to glare at the Highmaster. "Did you threaten the poor boy."

"I have done no such thing," Karkaroff said dangerously, "and you should remember your place, Yvanna."

Lady Shluga immediately paled. "My, my apologies Highmaster. I, I simply get worked up over the health of my patients."

Turning to look at Harry, Karkaroff smiled slightly, showing his yellow teeth. "Why don't you want a notice to be sent out, Mr. Potter?"

"My parents will withdraw me from Durmstrang if they find out, sir. They, well, it took Professor Dumbledore convincing them that I would be safe here to even let me attend. I really do like it here, sir, and I don't want to leave."

Karkaroff flinched slightly at the mention of Dumbledore. Most of the world saw Albus Dumbledore as a gentle and kind-hearted old man; however, Igor saw the other side of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

He saw the man who could casually appear inside of Durmstrang's wards by means of that filthy Phoenix companion of his. He saw the man who had once effortlessly set him on fire during a duel in Hogsmeade. He saw the man with more political connections than anyone in the world. Finally, he saw the man who had a lifetime's worth of blackmail on him, and had no qualms about using it to get his way.

Igor did his best to force the memory of Dumbledore threatening to turn him over to the Russians for the role he played in the Leningrad Massacre of 1980. The old man had given him a simple quid pro quo. Keep Harry Potter safe...or be prepared to spend the rest of his life slaving away in a warded gulag.

Knowing he had no choice and that it was too late to rescind Potter's acceptance, Igor increased the restrictions on performing magic in the halls. It was typically tradition for all first years to undergo a hazing of sorts during their time at Durmstrang. The professors would turn a blind eye towards any student who sent a spell at a first year, provided they kept it within reason.

That could not be allowed with Harry Potter. If a student took it too far and Potter was hurt.... Naturally, Igor had tightened the restrictions about casting spells in the hallway, and he made certain to make an example out of the first brat to break his rule. He had also explained to the faculty that Harry Potter was to be monitored carefully.

Now Potter was in the infirmary with a broken scapula, and the matron wanted to inform the boy's parents. That simply could not happen. "Yvanna, clearly, Mr. Potter doesn't want his parents to know what happened. Surely you can make an exception in this one case."

Lady Shluga looked between the Highmaster's decidedly dangerous stare and the Potter boy's pleading eyes. She had been prepared to cross Karkaroff if he attempted to force her to not send the letter out. It would have probably cost her position, but she was a good healer, and she would find another job. However, if the Potter boy didn't want his parents to know that someone had viciously cursed him... well, she couldn't justify loosing her job for someone that didn't even want her help. "Very well Highmaster, it will be as you wish. Now, Mr. Potter, I believe you have a visitor."

"Really?" Harry glanced over at a clock and saw that it was almost ten in the morning. Viktor would be at Quidditch practice, so who would bother visiting him? "Who?"

"A Ms. Megara. I shall tell her that you are awake. She's just doing some homework in my office right now."

As Lady Shluga walked away, Karkaroff grinned down at Harry. "I'm glad that we don't need to let anyone know about this unfortunate situation, Mr. Potter, and I'm pleased that you are so far enjoying your time at Durmstrang."

"Um, thank you, sir," Harry replied as he tried to figure out who Ms. Megara was, and why she would be visiting him.

"My best on your recovery, Harry," the Highmaster said before leaving the infirmary.

The door to Lady Shluga's office opening directed Harry's attention away from the retreating Highmaster, and he noticed the matron of the infirmary walking towards him; however, when Harry got his first look at this visitor, he felt his heart skip a beat. His visitor was a very attractive third or fourth year girl with olive skin, shoulder length brown hair, and hazel eyes. She was carrying a book on Spell Creation under her arm, and appeared to be annoyed about something.

"As you can see Ms. Megara, Mr. Potter is awake. Now, I've got some paperwork to take care of, so why don't I just leave you two here to talk."

"Thank you Lady Shluga," the girl said sweetly.

"Who are you?" Harry asked curiously.

The girl waited until Lady Shluga was back in her office before replying, "Shut up Potter. I doubt you want to be here, but I really don't want to waste my time babysitting you. So, don't speak to me. In fact, don't even look at me."

Harry simply stared at the girl in disbelief. "W-What?"

Sighing, the girl sat down in a chair near Harry's bed and took out her wand. "_Silencio_."

Harry tried to scream for help, but nothing would come out of his mouth. He looked up at the girl in horror, thoughts of being cursed in his own hospital bed raced through his mind. Was this girl the person who cursed him in the library? Was she here to finish him off?

Noticing his wand on the end table next to him, Harry was about to make a desperate drive for it when the girl said, "By Zeus, Potter would you stop fidgeting? I'm trying to study!"

Stunned, Harry stopped moving and looked back at the girl. She was just sitting there, not even paying him the slightest bit of attention. After a few tense moments where the girl didn't even lift her eyes from the book she was reading, Harry realized that the girl was not a threat to him, but why was she here? And why had she silenced him?

The two sat together in complete silence, the only sound coming from the girl turning the pages of her book. Harry continued to observe the girl, unsure of what to think about her.

"I told you to not look at me."

Harry simply raised an eyebrow and continued to look at the rapidly bothered girl.

"Do you want me to curse you Potter?"

Frustrated and annoyed at the girl's attitude, Harry was about to throw an extra pillow at her when the door to the infirmary opened, and Viktor walked inside.

He was still wearing his Quidditch uniform, and was sweating slightly; however, Harry was never happier to see a familiar face. Viktor, likewise, appeared pleased to see him. "Harry, you're awake!"

Harry was about to motion to his throat, signaling that he couldn't talk, when he heard the girl mutter a quiet "_finite_," removing the silencing spell.

With his voice returned and confident that Viktor would help him if she started throwing spells, Harry turned to face the girl. "What the hell is your problem!"

The girl simply ignored Harry's outburst before standing up and walking over to Viktor. "You smell, and shouldn't you be at practice for another hour?"

"A few of my teammates will be joining Harry in the infirmary shortly." Viktor grinned. "Maybe the next time I ask for a practice to be rescheduled they will listen to me."

"You two know each other?" Harry asked his friend in surprise.

Viktor laughed. "Kira is my girlfriend Harry. I thought it would be a good idea for you to have a friendly face around when you woke up. Since I had to go to practice, I asked her to stay here."

"Yeah, she's real friendly," Harry muttered under his breath.

Kira glanced at Harry with disdain. "Better than you deserve half-blood."

"Kira," Viktor scowled, "apologize."

For a second, Harry thought Kira was going to laugh at the suggestion, but then she saw the serious expression on Viktor's face. "Sorry Potter," she said unconvincingly. "Happy Viktor? Now, I'm leaving." Without a second glace, Kira swiftly grabbed her book and walked out of the infirmary.

"So," Harry said uncomfortably, "how long have you been dating her?"

"Since October." Viktor replied. "She's normally not like that."

"Is she a fourth year as well?"

"No, although she is in fourth year spell creation, she is a third year. She and I have been good friends ever since I stopped some students in our second year spell creation class from picking on her. I had hoped that you two would have gotten along better."

"Yeah, what did I ever do to make her so upset with me? I haven't even seen her before."

"Kira," Viktor said slowly as if deciding how much to tell his new friend, "is very competitive. She has constantly ranked among the best students in Spell Creation, and she is one of the better duelists in her Dark Arts class. I believe she is slightly jealous of your placement into two third year classes. And, well, I had hoped that she would keep her opinions on blood to herself, but she strongly disapproves of anyone who is not a pureblood being accepted at Durmstrang."

"Why?"

"Kira's family is from Greece, and they have one of the oldest pureblood lineages in Europe; however, her family is unique in many ways."

"Unique how?"

"It is not my place to say, Harry." Viktor said with finality.

Harry wondered exactly what kind of family situation would make Kira dislike him. He had never even heard of the Megara family, and he didn't think they were death eaters. "Well, as long as you like her, and she is...well, what I mean to say is, ugh, well, you know."

"Yes?" Viktor grinned. "She is what?"

Feeling his face heat up slightly, Harry muttered, "She is kind of pretty."

Viktor smiled. "Yes, yes she is, but enough about Kira. How long are you going to be in the hospital wing for and did they catch the person responsible?"

Before Harry could answer, the doors to the hospital wing burst open and three dirty and bruised boys began levitating three other boys into beds. Harry noticed that all the boys were wearing the same Quidditch uniform as Viktor, who was smirking at the scene.

"Did you do all that?"

"Yes," Viktor said proudly, "I'm actually surprised that they were able to get Lucas out of the ground so fast. I had thought he would've been buried for at least an hour."

Harry's eyes widened. How did someone get buried during Quidditch practice?

Seeing his friend's curious expression, Viktor said, "Trust me, Harry, you don't want to know."


	5. Durmstrang Spring Part 2

**Taking Steps and Making Acquaintances**

**Harry's Room, Durmstrang, Feb. 15** **th**

It had been over two weeks since Harry spent his first night in the Durmstrang infirmary, and he was committed to making sure his first visit was his last.

While Lady Shluga had healed him, his first month at Durmstrang had Harry on guard. He knew that he hadn't made a lot of friends at Durmstrang – in fact, if one discounted Viktor, he hadn't made _any_ friends. The fact that Harry was slowly starting to become one of the top students in most of his classes only seemed to further antagonize his classmates. In a place as competitive as Durmstrang, a new, successful, student –who just happened to be a half-blood– was bound to make a few people angry.

Harry had hoped to try to discover the identity of his attacker immediately after being released. He and Viktor had discussed it, and, unfortunately, they came had come to the conclusion that it would be impossible unless the attacker was stupid enough to brag about it. Harry was taking classes with first, second, and third years, and any of them could have been behind the attack. While it was highly unlikely for a first, second, or third year could properly cast the bone-breaking curse, most students had some kind of family connection to someone else at Durmstrang.

Fortunately, most of the upper-year students at Durmstrang didn't bother with the squabbling of the younger students. By the time sixth and seventh year came around, the pecking order for upper-class students was well established, and they were more worried about completing their advanced final projects or angering another upperclassman than paying attention to what some first year was doing. Still, there were always exceptions, and if an upperclassman was responsible, Harry knew that he was going to be in for a long and dangerous year.

Harry had been initially hesitant to wander around the school following the attack; however, after the first week, he realized something important. If his peers thought they could get away with cursing him, what would stop them from trying again? Harry loathed the thought of having to sneak around the school when he was alone, or having to plan his schedule around Viktor so that people would be less likely to attack him. When Viktor wasn't available, Harry retreated to the library where Lady Doktor kept a very sharp eye on him.

If the Durmstrang librarian had been short-tempered to students before the attack, she was now outright hostile to anyone who had their wands out. Harry wished that he could say that the librarian was upset that he had been injured under her watch, but that just wasn't the case. While Lady Doktor had treated Harry better than most students at Durmstrang, it was obvious she was enraged that anyone would dare use an offensive spell near her books. Harry had witnessed her on three separate occasions threaten students with detention for simply practicing the wand movements for spells, or for casting a warming charm without her permission.

The one positive aspect that came from Lady Doktor's intense scrutiny was that fewer students were visiting the library. Also, since Lady Doktor knew that Harry hadn't been the person who sent the curse, he was treated slightly better than the majority of the other students. This allowed him to spend a lot of time undisturbed in the library, and he began to browse through the Dark Arts section. Even if he wasn't interested in learning anything really dangerous or dark, Harry figured if people saw him looking at or reading a lot of books known for dark curses, they wouldn't think to pick a fight with him.

Viktor helped him when he could, and Harry discovered that his friend wasn't universally poor at all his classes. It turned out that Viktor's swift defeat of the four third-years in the abandoned Charms classroom was by no means a stroke of luck. The intense conditioning and reflex training Viktor did to practice for Quidditch actually made him a very talented duelist.

Beyond his superior physical conditioning, Viktor had another advantage over other duelists: his curses were abnormally strong. In fact, Harry suspected that his friend's negative emotions towards so many of his peers actually contributed to the power behind his curses. When he tried it, Harry found that getting angry at his mysterious attacker before casting a curse would indeed boost the strength of the spell.

"_Flagrate_." he whispered, sending a streak of thin fire from his wand. Flicking his wand, Harry manipulated the fire into spelling out his name before snapping it back into a thin whip of fire. It was a trick he had learned from studying the flaming names above the student quarters. It had taken him a while, but eventually Harry figured out the fire was done by manipulating the Flagrate spell.

Still manipulating the small dancing flame, Harry left his room and walked down the long corridor towards the main staircase. As he got closer to the stairs, he spotted some students from his Dark Arts class. Harry noticed that a few of them had their wands out and seemed to be practicing a spell. Still slightly on edge from his attack, and unsure if they were going to try to hit him with whatever they were practicing, Harry jabbed his wand at the group and sent his small flame whip at them. The other first years barely avoided the fire, and quickly ran off as fast as they could, all the while shouting insults at Harry.

Seeing a professor walk up from the main staircase, Harry immediately canceled the spell. While he was all for letting his peers know that he could defend himself, Harry didn't want to get into any trouble for casting an offensive spell in the corridors. Viktor had told him what had been done to a fifth year student who had been caught casting a Jelly-Legs jinx on a first year, and it had given Harry nightmares for a week.

Shaking off the thought of being strapped to a rack, Harry did his best to focus on the task at hand.

Entering the library, Harry saw that Lady Doktor wasn't at her usual post. Instead, her assistant, a slimy man by the name of Nikolai Polanski, stood there, and Harry did his best to not look at him. Viktor mentioned that Polanski was once the librarian at Beauxbatons. He had been suspected of dosing a first year with love potion and taking them back to his quarters. Because the girl was a Muggle-born and Polanski was a pureblood, the French Ministry of Magic allowed him to remain at home under house arrest while awaiting trial. Just prior to his trial, several other students came forward and accused him of giving them love potions when they were at Beauxbatons. Fearing that he could be facing face serious jail time in France, Polanski fled to his cousin Igor, who provided him with sanctuary at Durmstrang, much to the annoyance of an irate French Ministry of Magic.

Walking into the section on the Dark Arts, Harry looked around for a something good to read. He was currently considering an interesting book titled _Sonnets of a Sorcerer. _Harry was about to open it when a voice casually said, "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Potter."

Turning to his right, Harry saw a girl around his age reading the titles in a slightly more advanced part of the Dark Arts section.

"Why not?"

The girl turned to face him. She had black hair that reached past her shoulders, light blue eyes that were almost grey, and a plain face that didn't particularly stand out amongst the hundreds of other students Harry had so far seen at Durmstrang. It took a moment, but Harry eventually recognized her from his Spell Creation class. She was one of the quiet people who rarely, if ever, spoke up, and so far hadn't bothered him. Harry thought her name was Calypso, but he wasn't sure since she seemed content to keep to herself in their only shared class.

"_Sonnets of a Sorcerer_ was written by a rather vengeful Irish wizard in the 1600s. He cursed every copy he made so that if you read the book, you are forever forced to speak in limericks," she commented. "But, by all means, go ahead and read it if you want."

Harry quickly put the book back on the shelf. "Thanks for telling me."

"I noticed you've been spending more time in this section," she said conversationally. "Any reason why? Typically, you stick to Transfiguration and Charms. Or is that only when you are tutoring Krum?"

"I don't tutor Viktor," Harry said, doing his best to mask his discomfort. He wasn't sure how a girl he had never spoken to could know so much about his study habits. Was she watching him or something?

"What would you call a student explaining something to another student who knew less than them? Or are you going to tell me that Krum is actually your equal in Transfiguration, and he just lets you explain everything to him to test that _you_ know it?"

Harry blushed slightly. "Alright, so maybe I help him out, but 'tutor' makes it sound like he couldn't do it on his own. All I do is help him grasp the theory faster. That way he can spend more time playing Quidditch."

"How... benevolent of you, Potter," Calypso replied as she pulled a book from the shelf. "This has several interesting curses in it. If you're half as decent in the Dark Arts as you are in Charms and Transfiguration, they shouldn't be too much of a problem for you. The spells are somewhat visual in their effects, so if you're trying to send a message that people shouldn't send bone-breaking spells at your back, this should help." Harry reached out and took the book with a thankful expression on his face. After quickly flipping through the first few pages, he looked up to thank Calypso, but she was already gone.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Harry's room, Durmstrang, Feb. 16** **th**

A soft tapping against the only window in his room caused Harry to look up from his desk. Outside, just barely able to remain flying in the snowstorm, was a brown owl that he immediately recognized as being from Hogwarts. Quickly standing Harry opened his tiny window, allowing the tiny owl to flutter inside.

"I'm sorry I don't have any owl treats for you, but if you go to the owlery you can rest and get some food before you have to go back to Hogwarts," Harry told the tired-looking creature, who simply hooted in response.

After removing the letter from the owl and letting it back outside to find its way to the owlery, Harry sat down on his bed to read.

_Harry, _

_That's awesome that your friend is a Seeker. He must be pretty good to pull off that kind of maneuver with a Bludger. I never would have thought of timing my flying to get a Bludger to stay close enough to me so that I could use it as a weapon against an opposing player. I'll have to ask Fred or George to help me practice that. I'm sure Oliver will appreciate the potential advantage it could give us. I promise that I won't tell Mum that it was you who told me about it. _

_I'm glad things are working out for you at Durmstrang, but I still wish you were here. _

_The reason I'm writing though is that I have a question. Have you ever heard of someone named Nicholas Flamel? Hermione, Ron, and I have been looking for information about him for a while, but we can't seem to find anything. So anything you know would be a great help. _

_Hope you aren't too cold in Siberia._

_Nathan _

Harry laughed at his brother's final line. He had told Nathan that he was right and that Durmstrang was in Siberia, and it seemed like his brother was buying it. Harry had written his parents and explained how he couldn't tell them where Durmstrang was; however, he also mentioned that Nathan would probably be writing them soon, claiming that he was right and that Durmstrang was in Siberia. His dad had written back, praising him for pranking his brother from a thousand miles away, and his mother had reluctantly agreed not to tell Nathan about the prank.

Harry thought the question about Nicholas Flamel was odd. The only Flamel Harry had ever heard of was the alchemist who helped Professor Dumbledore work on the twelve uses of dragon's blood. Scribbling a quick response to his brother, and making sure to include a warning about not killing himself practicing insane Quidditch moves, Harry went down to the owlery to send his response with a Durmstrang owl.

**ooo0000ooo**

**The Agreement**

**Durmstrang Library, Feb. 24** **th**

"So you're going to be traveling around all summer playing Quidditch?" Harry asked, trying to hide his disappointment. He had hoped to invite Viktor over for a little bit this summer, but that wasn't going to be possible now.

"Yes, I can't wait," Viktor said excitedly. "There are two junior national teams in Bulgaria, and I am the youngest person ever to be selected as a Seeker."

"How did they find out how good you are?" Harry knew Nathan wasn't in the same league as Viktor, but his brother would probably be interested in knowing anyway.

"A member of the Bulgarian Department for Magical Games and Sports is a Durmstrang alumnus. My family is rather influential in Bulgaria and my uncle asked him to come and take a look at me as a personal favor. He attended my last two games, and I got a letter in December telling me that I was a finalist for the open Seeker spot on one of the junior national teams. Today, the news came that I got the spot!"

"Congratulations, Viktor. You deserve it."

"Thank you, Harry," Viktor replied with a beaming smile. "It will be a lot of hard work but I'm certain tha–"

"As interesting as all this is, Krum, I need to speak with Potter."

Harry and Viktor turned around. Standing directly behind them was a bored-looking Calypso.

Viktor narrowed his eyes at the much smaller girl. "What do _you_ want with Harry?"

"Don't worry, Krum, I'm not going to hurt your tutor."

"Harry," Viktor said hesitantly, "I did not know you knew Ro-"

"Please," Calypso interrupted again, "call me Calypso, Viktor. Now, Potter, do you have a moment? I need your help with something."

"Alright, Calypso." Harry slowly stood up, wondering exactly what the history between Viktor and Calypso was. She was just a first year, after all. "Viktor, I'll catch up with you later, alright?"

Viktor nodded his head, but Harry noticed him mouth the words 'be careful' as he turned to leave. Confused, Harry followed Calypso to a table over by the Dark Arts section of the library. He felt several silencing and privacy charms around the table, and couldn't help but be slightly impressed.

"Good charms work."

Looking completely impassive, Calypso met Harry's eyes and, slowly, a smile graced her face. "I wish I could take the credit, but my father charmed this table so that only I or those I invite to sit here are able to use it."

"How did he do that? I could see the table, and I didn't feel any aversion to coming over and sitting down here."

Rolling her eyes, Calypso said, "Trust me, had you actually sat down and not been invited by me, you would have noticed very quickly that you didn't belong here."

Deciding that he didn't want to know exactly what curses were on the chair he was currently sitting in, Harry asked, "So what is it that you need?"

"Very well," Calypso said, her voice suddenly becoming eerily devoid of emotion. "I'm stuck in first year Charms and Transfiguration classes with a bunch of idiots. You are already in third year Charms and Transfiguration and, from all appearances, are Professor Rosemburg's new favorite student. I'd like for you to help me skip my second year in Charms and Transfiguration."

Harry thought about it. He felt that he certainly owed Calypso for helping him, and, so far, she had not been at all hostile towards him like others in his year. Still, helping her pass her second year in two classes would take a lot of time, and he, unfortunately, didn't have a lot of that to spare. Besides the time he spent with Viktor, Harry was almost overwhelmed with trying to get caught up in Transfiguration, Charms, and Spell Creation. Still, Calypso had helped him. Biting his lip, he replied, "I don't have the time to help you with both classes, but I'll do my best to help you out in one of them. Let me know which class you eventually decide upon on, and I'll work with you."

When Harry started to stand up, Calypso immediately reached out and grabbed his arm, preventing him from leaving. Turning back to face her, Harry saw a look of undisguised anger on her face. He was about to draw his wand to force Calypso to let go of him when she abruptly released him and the anger left her face. "I apologize, Harry, but it is very important that I move ahead in both classes."

"And I don't have the time," Harry said with some bite in his voice.

"What if I can make it worth your time? I'll agree to help you with something in exchange for you helping me in both classes?"

"Oh?" Harry asked curiously. "What do you think I need?"

"From what I hear, you have been rather bored in Professor Grausam's class. I can help you jump a year in the Dark Arts."

"You're in second year Dark Arts?"

Calypso smirked victoriously. "No, I'm currently in the third year Dark Arts class, and I'm one of the best duelists. Your friend's bitch of a girlfriend has yet to even land a spell on me during our duels."

Now Harry understood what Viktor meant by 'Be careful.' Third year was when Durmstrang essentially broke from Hogwarts and Beauxbatons' Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum and started to become more of a Dark Arts class. If Calypso had managed to test into the third year class as a first year, she must have had some extensive and rather frightening training at home from her parents.

"What do you say?" she asked.

Harry knew that his parents would probably want him to say no. Regardless of what Quirrell had told him, Harry had listened to his father when he talked about the dangerous nature of the Dark Arts, and that wasn't something he could just forget. The few dark spells Quirrell had taught him and what he had so far learned at Durmstrang weren't that dangerous, and they would be considered less than nothing if Harry actually took all seven years in the Dark Arts at Durmstrang.

Still, it seemed like Professor Grausam had taken Harry's success in his class as a personal insult. The professor was now forcing two students to fight him at once, and Harry was forced to dedicate a lot of his already sparse time to making sure his dueling spells were up to par. So far, Harry had continued to win whenever it was his turn to duel, but he knew his classmates truly hated him now, and the last few duels had been too close. He didn't even want to think about what his peers would do if they were finally able to disarm him in a duel; Merlin knows Professor Grausam probably wouldn't stop them from taking turns cursing him without his wand. Moving ahead a year would not only relieve some of the animosity Harry's peers had for him, but even if it didn't, it could still send a message that he was not someone they wanted to mess with. Jumping a year in the Dark Arts would definitely tell people he was no pushover, and all the people who still wanted to curse him would know that he had started to learn some more dangerous magic.

Feeling that he really didn't have a choice in the matter, Harry said, "Alright Calypso, you have a deal."

**ooo0000ooo**

**Minerva and Mars**

**Durmstrang Library, February 28** **th**

"You're late, Potter," Calypso said impatiently. "I've been waiting for ten minutes."

"Sorry. Viktor had a question about revealing charms, and since we might actually have a quiz tomorrow, he wanted to make sure he understood everything."

Calypso suddenly stood up and grabbed her bag. "Let's go."

"What?" Harry asked following the girl up from her table and out of the library. "Why can't we study in the library?"

"Did you really think we were going to work in the _library_? I just wanted to meet you there."

"Yes I thought we were going to study in the library. Where else would we study?"

"Potter, I said we were going to practice, not study, and while Lady Doktor seems to like you, do you really think she'll let us cast spells around her precious books?"

"No," Harry said slowly, "but –"

"No buts," Calypso said, stopping outside a very familiar door.

"You can't be serious," Harry said in horror. "We can't practice _here_."

Calypso simply ignored him and pushed the door open. When she saw that Harry wasn't following her, she turned around and glared at him. "_What_ is your problem?"

"Calypso, Grausam already hates me! If he finds out that I'm using his classroom without his permission, he'll make me duel three students instead of two."

"What a wonderful idea, Potter, but let's make it five. A little humility could do you some good." Stepping into view, the Durmstrang Dark Arts instructor sent an irritated glance at Harry before turning to glare at Calypso. "If you damage anything, not even your father will get you out of trouble. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

While Harry thought Calypso sounded nothing but respectful, something in her tone must have bothered Grausam as Harry distinctly saw the man's hand twitch towards where he kept his wand. Grausam quickly restrained himself, and, after a final look of disgust at Harry, he left the room.

"So...we can actually use the Defense room?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Yes, my father cleared it with the Highmaster."

"Wow...umm, you don't think Grausam was serious about making me duel five people, right?"

"Hard to tell," Calypso said honestly. "He was rather annoyed, and he really doesn't like you."

"Stupid blood purists," Harry muttered angrily.

"Grausam? A purist?" Calypso laughed, causing Harry to look at her in confusion. "Potter, Grausam is the only half-blood on staff. It's one of the reasons he's not very well respected."

"I don't understand then," Harry said in frustration. "Why does he hate me?"

"Is it so uncommon for someone to just not like you, Potter?"

"But he seemed to really dislike me from the moment I arrived here," Harry argued. "It doesn't make sense."

"Potter, can you honestly not think of a reason why Grausam wouldn't like you?"

When Harry just stared at her in confusion, Calypso threw her hands into the air. "Fine. Let me explain it to you, Potter. You claim that Grausam didn't like you from the moment you got to Durmstrang, right?"

"Yes, he was really rude and standoffish when I arriv–"

"Did you ever consider," Calyspo interrupted, "that the reason for that wasn't because of _you_, but because he had to go and collect you?"

"What?"

"Potter, would the Highmaster really send one of his more favored teachers to collect a first year, who would be arriving in the middle of January? In case you haven't noticed, warming charms only work so well outside this time of year, and Grausam would have had to walk all the way from the castle because of the anti-Apparation wards. He then had to wait for you to arrive, and then walk you back to the castle through the snow. By giving Grausam that job, Karkaroff was telling him that he was the most expendable person on the staff. Hades, the Highmaster could have sent the caretaker, but he chose Grausam. How demeaning do you think it was for Grausam to be told that the Highmaster thought less of him than everyone else on staff?"

Harry couldn't help but think back to Hogwarts. Sure enough, it was Hagrid who collected the students from the train, not a professor. While Harry thought Hagrid was certainly nice, he was by no means a very high ranking member of Hogwarts' staff. From what he knew about Durmstrang, Harry had no doubts that Calypso was probably right, and the Highmaster would send someone he had little respect for to go and bring a new student to the school.

"And since everyone knows your German was crap when you first got here," Calypso continued, "you probably had to talk to Grausam in English, which isn't a language he is rumored to be very strong in. Are you still surprised that he was rude and standoffish?"

"Alright, that explains why Grausem didn't like me when he picked me up, but what's his excuse now?" Harry challenged. "He treats me like dirt in class, and I have to duel two people at a time!"

Calypso looked at Harry like he was a complete idiot. "Potter," she said speaking the words very slowly, "you have to duel _two_ people at a time to be challenged, and you are breezing through his class."

"So?" Harry asked. "Shouldn't he be happy that I'm doing well?"

"You shouldn't be in the first year class! You're showing up everyone else. I don't know why you aren't in your second year defense class, but you obviously should be. Grausam is probably pissed that you didn't test into a higher Dark Arts class, since you are basically wasting his time by taking the first year class."

"So, he's just trying to challenge me?" Harry asked in surprise. "He wants me to move up to a more advanced class?"

"No," Calyspo said succinctly. "No, I'm pretty sure that you burned that bridge after the first few classes. He probably just resents and dislikes you now."

"What?" Harry asked in horror. "What if I–"

"Potter, I really don't want to spend the entire night discussing your problems, fascinating as they may be. We're losing time, and I'd really like to get some work done."

Harry numbly followed Calypso into the Dark Arts room, his mind a whirl of thoughts. Calypso's explanation certainly explained Grausam's attitude towards him, and Harry couldn't help but find the situation with Grausam somewhat ironic. He came to Durmstrang to be in advanced classes, and Grausam didn't like him because he was too far ahead of the rest of his class. Maybe he could talk to Grausam about moving up? No, that would be pointless, considering that he was already trying to skip his second year class now. Still, he might be able to ask Grausam…

"Potter!" Calypso snapped, jarring Harry from his thoughts. "Are we going to work or not?"

"Right, sorry. What do you want to do first, Charms or Transfiguration?"

"Charms. I'm almost done with the first year spell list."

"Aright, the important thing to remember is that it's not just the wand movement and incantation, but also your imagination and emotional intent behind the spell. That means if I ask you charm–"

"Potter, I'm not Krum, you don't need to explain basic magical theory to me." Calyspo went over to her bag, took out a piece of parchment, and handed it to Harry. "Just pick out some of the spells on this list and help me learn them. I can take care of the magical theory on my own time."

"Alright," Harry said, somewhat pleased that he wouldn't have to walk Calypso through the basic theory. However, as he read over the list of first year spells, Harry grew more and more confused. Most of the spells were ridiculously simple: turn an object a different color, levitate an object, and make an object fly. Harry was actually surprised at how easy the last few spells on the list were. "This is...really simple stuff. Is this the entire list?"

"Yes."

"That doesn't make any sense. My brother just asked me a question in his latest letter about inanimate animation charms, but that is the most advanced spell on this entire list. I thought Durmstrang was supposed to be...more advanced? Why does the Hogwarts curriculum move faster?"

"It's actually really obvious when you think about, Potter," Calypso replied.

Harry just looked at her expectantly. When it didn't appear that Calyspo was going to elaborate and was more interested in trying to get multiple objects to levitate at once, he said, "Well, why is Hogwarts further ahead than Durmstrang? My Charms class covers a lot of material, but it looks like your class only learns a new spell once every two weeks."

"Potter, how many students do you have in your Charms class?"

"I don't know, 30 or so."

"I have 40 people in my class, Potter. That means at some point between the end of first year and the start of third year, 10 students in each Charms class didn't pass. First year classes tend to be very basic and slow, second year is more intense, third year more than second year, and so on and so forth. The reason your class can move at a faster pace and learn new spells more often is that the professors have already removed the stupider students after first and second year."

"Okay, I understand what you're saying, but why doesn't Durmstrang just set the same level requirement as Hogwarts? That way they could cut more people?"

"Because Durmstrang isn't Hogwarts, Potter." Calypso said in exasperation. "Hogwarts has its standards, and we have ours. If you don't like how things are run at Durmstrang, then go back to Hogwarts."

"That's not what I meant, I was just curious," Harry said defensively.

"And I don't really care. Can we please just get back to practicing? It is the reason why we are here."

"Alright. Do you have a pineapple?"

"No, but I brought some apples." Calyspo went back over to her bag and took out the fruit. "Will this work?"

"It's fine," Harry replied. "Put one on the table and make it dance."

Calypso frowned. "That's not on the spell list."

"No, but my brother said that is something the Charms professor at Hogwarts mentioned might be on _their_ exam. You can learn this simple stuff on your own time. If you have problems, ask me, but if you really want to skip your second year of Charms, you're going to have to work hard to get ahead. Since my brother is just now starting to learn this, and it's not on your first year list, that means it'll probably be one of the first few spells you have to learn in second year."

"Do you know the incantation and wand movements?"

Harry quickly took out his wand and demonstrated the spell a few times for Calypso. He then watched her struggle to perform the spell, interjecting a few pointers when she appeared to be really stuck. After nearly half an hour, in which Calypso both accidentally and intentionally melted her apple, she finally got the fruit to waddle across the table.

"Finally," she said, just as the apple stopped moving. Calypso tried to get the apple to move again, but when it remained still, she angrily prodded it with her wand, causing it to explode. "Stupid fruit!"

"I-I think that's enough of Charms for tonight." Harry couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice, and Calypso turned to glare at him.

"It's not funny, Potter."

Harry grinned. "I certainly think it is."

"Then let's see how funny you think it is after we duel." Calyspo drew her wand and walked onto the dueling platform. "Come on, Potter."

"I thought we'd work on Transfigurati–"

"Nope. Fair is fair, Potter. You helped me with Charms, so now I should help you with the Dark Arts before we start Transfiguration." A surprised look suddenly appeared on Calypso's face. "That is, unless you're scared to duel me. I'm sure Krum and his girlfriend have told you just how talented I am."

Indeed, Viktor had mentioned that Calypso was supposedly some kind of dueling prodigy. '_Annoyingly fucking intuitive_' was the phrase Kira had used to describe Calypso's ability to Viktor, who had then forwarded the message to Harry. Apparently, while Calypso didn't use shields, she was incredible at avoiding harmful spells, and her curses packed a punch. Still, Harry couldn't help but be somewhat confident. He had spent most of his first year at Hogwarts dueling with an adult, and Calypso, no matter how talented, just couldn't be better than Professor Quirrell.

Taking his place opposite her on the dueling platform, Harry said, "I'm not scared of you, Calypso."

As was standard at the beginning of the duels, Harry and Calypso locked eyes and gave each other a small bow. They then both fell into their dueling stances. Harry turned his body sidewise towards Calypso, to limit the area she could hit, and held his wand loosely in his front hand, ready to cast a quick shield charm. Looking at Calypso, Harry couldn't help but notice how different their styles really were.

While he was prepared to dodge, defend, and counter quickly, a lesson he learned through trial and error with Quirrell, Calypso's style screamed attack. She stood with her wand arm cocked back behind her, poised to make the quick forward thrusting motion necessary for most curses. As a result of her aggressive stance, her body was exposed to an opening curse, and Harry strongly considered sending the first spell to take advantage of her stance.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Yes, on three?"

"Agreed. One..."

"Two..."

"Three."

Flicking his wand up, Harry sent a stunner directly at Calypso's body, but she was already moving to her left and easily avoided it.

Harry immediately found himself dodging a return stunner from Calypso, and he dropped to one knee, allowing it to sail easily over his head. With a swish of his wand, Harry snapped out, "_Flagrate_," sending a thin streak of fire at Calypso's legs.

Calypso lept backwards, but not before the flame managed to hit her left ankle, eliciting a shriek from her. Snapping her head up, she shot Harry a poisonous glare before viciously slashing her wand across her body and whispering an incantation. A burst of twisting yellow light erupted from her wand and Harry immediately screamed, "_Protego_," to protect himself from the unfamiliar curse.

While his shield held, Harry was knocked backwards several feet, and he knew his shield wouldn't stand up against another spell. Canceling the shield charm, Harry tried to return fire against Calypso, but he found himself facing a barrage of spells. He twisted out of the way of a knee-inverter hex, and he narrowly avoided a nasty spell known as the Jelly-Brain curse. Spotting an opening, Harry stepped forward and sent a Leg-Locker and full body-bind spell at Calypso.

Somehow, Calypso seemed to anticipate the attack and she quickly spun to the left, causing the spells to just narrowly miss her shoulder. Unfortunately for Harry, she hadn't been idle while spinning to avoid his spells. When Calypso completed her rotation back towards him, she had already finished the wand movement for her next spell. With a knowing grin on her face, Calypso hissed, "_Bombarda_."

Harry tried to cast a shield, but in his attempt to press his advantage against Calypso, he had moved too close to her. Her curse quickly crossed the distance between them, sent Harry flying across the dueling platform, and into the back wall, knocking the wind from his lungs. Gasping for air, Harry struggled to his knees. Lifting his head, he was able to look up just in time to see a red light smash directly into his face.

"_Ennervate_."

"Owww," Harry groaned rubbing the back of his head. "What was that last spell? There is no way you can do a banishment charm yet."

"The spell I used is called the Bombardment Hex. From what I know about the banishment charm, the caster has some semblance of control over where the object you banish goes. This spells just sends things in the opposite direction of the duelist who cast it at a high rate of speed. That was a surprisingly good duel, Potter. You even got me with that fire spell." Calypso knelt down and rubbed her ankle where a blistering red welt had appeared.

"That looks like it really hurts. Are you okay?" Harry asked in concern.

"I've got some burn salve in my room, so don't worry about it. How are you? You hit that wall pretty hard."

"Yeah, thankfully my head didn't hit the wall, just my back. I'll be alright, but I don't think we should duel anymore unless we want to end up in the hospital wing with Lady Shluga."

"Agreed. I don't suppose you've asked Grausam for the second year spell list so you can prepare to test out of the class?"

"Uh, no, I haven't," Harry said hesitantly.

"You should do that pretty soon. I don't know what spells they learned during second year, so I can't really help you until I see what you need to know."

"Wait," Harry said suddenly. "There isn't a dueling component to the end of the year exams?"

"Of course not. You can't have people in the hospital wing and missing their scheduled time to present their final project."

"So...what was the point of dueling then?"

Calypso grinned. "I just wanted to see how good you were, and I'm impressed, Potter. Typically when I start sending spells at people they just hide behind a shield, but you actually dropped your shield to counter me."

"Well it's not like I had a choice." Harry replied hotly.

"What do you mean?"

"The shield never would have stopped another spell, and those spells you were sending would have hit me. I had to do something, and I didn't think being cursed senseless was a good option."

"That...makes sense." Calypso sent a curious look at Harry before letting a small smile appear on her face. "We should duel again. It was a fun challenge."

"Maybe," Harry said evasively. "If we can't work on my Dark Arts stuff until I get the second year spell list, do you want to work on Transfiguration?"

"Well, we could work on your first year list if you'd like." When Calypso saw Harry roll his eyes slightly, she hid a smirk. Apparently, Harry Potter thought he could already do most the first year Dark Arts spells. That raised some interesting questions. "If you don't want to though, we can move on to Transfiguration. I'm a little ahead in the course, and I think I can already do almost all of the first year spells, but I am having a problem turning a mouse into a snuffbox, so..."

**ooo0000ooo**

**The Threat**

**Girls' Wing, Durmstrang, March 1** **st**

The sharp knocking at her door caused Calypso to put aside her book and draw her wand. Had Potter figured it out already? If it had been anyone else, she would have said no, but Potter was clearly not your average Durmstrang student.

Making sure her wand was hidden yet accessible, Calypso opened her door. She narrowed her eyes at her surprise visitor.

"What do you want," she demanded.

"We need to talk. Now."

Calypso sneered and made to close the door. However, before the door was halfway shut, she was pushed backwards, and Viktor Krum angrily strode into her room. Calypso drew her wand, but Krum hadn't stopped moving once he had managed to get inside. Quickly crossing the distance between them, Viktor dodged Calypso's hex, and, using his superior strength, physically disarmed her of her wand.

"Get out of my room, Krum!" Calypso snarled as the large Bulgarian flicked her wand at the door, causing it to slam shut.

"No, I don't think I will." Placing Calypso's wand into his robes, Viktor stepped forward and roughly grabbed Calypso's arm, stopping her from retreating away from him. "Why are you showing an interest in Harry Potter?"

"Let go of me, Krum!" Calypso kicked out with her left leg, hitting the Bulgarian squarely between his legs. Krum grimaced at the sharp pain.

"What," he repeated angrily, "are you planning to do to Harry Potter?"

"Afraid I'm going to hurt your tutor, Krum?"

"I'm afraid," Viktor said as he applied pressure to Calypso's wrists, causing her wince slightly, "that you will hurt my _friend_. Imagine my surprise this morning when Harry told me that the two of you had been practicing magic alone in Grausam's classroom last night." Raising his voice, Viktor continued, "As if that wasn't enough, imagine, if you can, my reaction to finding out that the two of you had a _friendly_ duel."

"It's not like I used Dark Magic! I want his help, you ignoran–"

"Shut up! I do not care about what spells you used, and I do not give a hippogriff's shit what you claim your motivations are. You will never duel Harry Potter again unless I am there to watch and act as his second. You are very fortunate that Harry appears to be fine and actually enjoyed his time with you last night. I assume, of course, that he doesn't know who you are, does he?"

Calypso said nothing, but her silence was all the confirmation Viktor needed. "Very well. Since Harry seems...happy to have made an acquaintance his own age, I will not interfere with your little study group. That said, if you so much look like you're going to send a Jelly-Legs jinx at him, I will return the favor one hundredfold upon you. Is that understood?"

"If you try to do anything to me, Krum, my father–"

"Will do nothing," Viktor snapped. "My family is not without influence, and, unlike yours, we aren't tainted with the stain of being associated with dark lords."

"Like your parents would lift a finger to help you! Everyone knows you're a disgrace, always flying around on your broomstick, ignoring actual magic in favor of that stupid game."

Viktor's face contorted in rage. Withdrawing Calypso's wand from his robes, Viktor shoved it under her neck, the tip glowing a soft pink hue. "If you ever mention my family again, I will make you regret it."

After a moment of tense silence, Viktor threw Calypso's wand into the furthest corner of the room. "Remember my words. I do not know why you are interested in Harry, but if anything happens to him..." Without another word, he shoved Claypso onto a nearby couch, and, with a final look of disgust on his face, left her room.

Getting up from the couch, Calypso walked to the corner of the room and collected her wand. She softly rubbed her bruised wrist and hatefully glared at the spot where Victor Krum had just been standing.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Main Hall, Durmstrang, March 10** **th**

Sitting at the breakfast table, Harry ate some porridge while Viktor and Kira discussed something from her Dark Arts class. Viktor had come to the conclusion that Kira and Harry needed to spend more time together in order to become friends. Personally, Harry thought that there was as much a chance of that happening as Wizards and Muggles reconciling their differences and dropping that Statue of Secrecy.

The fluttering of wings announced that the mail had arrived, and Harry saw a large, impressive-looking horned owl land in front of Viktor, who removed the scroll from the creature's leg. Harry was about to ask who the letter was from when an owl landed next to him.

_Harry,_

_Alright, this might sound a little crazy, but believe me, everything is completely true. Earlier this year, Hermione, Ron, and I were out of bounds after curfew when we ended up in the forbidden third floor Charms corridor. You know, the one that Professor Dumbledore warned us about at the welcoming fe_ _ast._

_Well, it turns out the corridor is forbidden because there is a gigantic three-headed dog in that room. Yeah, that's right. A massive, drooling, very mean, three-headed dog is just standing on a trap door in the room. _

Harry had to put down the letter. His brother was without a doubt the dumbest person he had ever met. No, Harry corrected himself, that wasn't true. Nathan was never stupid like that before he started Hogwarts, and he knew Granger was not the type to break a serious rule. That left one person. Weasley. Harry made a mental note to curse the boy when he undoubtedly showed up at their house over the summer.

_It turns out that the dog is Hagrid's, and he lent him to Professor Dumbledore to guard something. Hagrid wouldn't tell us what the dog was guarding, but he did say it was between the Headmaster and a person by the name of Nicholas Flamel. Ron, Hermione, and I couldn't figure out who Flamel was until your letter. Thanks, by the way._

_Nicholas Flamel is not just Dumbledore's partner for the twelve uses of dragon's blood, but he's also the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone, the elixir of life! That's what we think Fluffy (that's the three-headed dog's name) is guarding. Flamel's Philosopher's Stone is at Hogwarts, and I think Snape is trying to steal it!_

_Now before you tell me that I'm wrong, listen to what Ron, Hermione, and I found out. Do you remember my first Quidditch match when I lost control of my broom? Well, I didn't lose control, it was being jinxed by Snape! Hermione set him on fire with a blue ball flame she had brought with her to keep warm during the match, and once she had done that, I regained control of my broom. Also, around November, I went to the staff lounge to get a book back that Snape had confiscated from me, and I saw he had a bloody leg and was complaining about Fluffy attacking him. Hermione, Ron, and I think he might have let that troll into the school on Halloween as a diversion so he could get _past _Fluffy__!_

_We need help to prove to the Headmaster or Professor McGonagall that Snape is trying to steal the stone. Can you think of anything that might help us?_

_Stay warm, _

_Nathan _

"Of all the stupid, ludicrous, idiotic things," Harry swore angrily, causing Krum and Kira to look up in surprise.

"What's wrong?" Viktor asked.

"My brother is a moron."

Viktor snorted in amusement while Kira did her best to seemingly ignore Harry's existence.

"I'll see you in Charms, Viktor." Harry grabbed his bag and stood up.

"Where are you going?"

"To send a letter to my brother before he does something completely mental."

**ooo0000ooo**

**What's in a Name**

**Dark Arts Classroom, March 17** **th**

"What is the difference between a regular magical creature and a Dark creature?"

"While a regular magical creature can be dangerous, they are dangerous because of their animal nature. For example a manticore or acromantula will kill a wizard and eat him to survive, but a Dark creature will attack even if it isn't hungry. Dark creatures attack for the sake of hurting someone, not simply to eat."

"Describe a Dark creature you might encounter at your time at Durmstrang."

"A boggart is the most likely. They've been found here before, and they traditionally like dark, confined spaces. "

"Alright, last question. What is the best way to identify a Pogrebin?"

"Well, sudden feelings of hopelessness and depression when you were previously feeling fine is an indicator. Also, if you ever notice a rock that isn't covered by snow in winter, it is most likely a Pogrebin. Their natural body heat melts snow before it can build up on them, making it obvious that they are not really rocks."

Calypso put down the first and second year Dark Arts examination questions. "This is the last time I'm going to ask you any of these questions. Why do they even bother testing us on the theory if the questions are going to be this easy? "

"I don't know. Maybe they make the theory exam easy so that students can focus more on the practical stuff."

"Are you good with the Dark Arts? I've been meaning to ask you a question about animation charms."

"I'm fine," Harry replied. "What's your question?

"How do I get a single animation charm to have multiple effects? Professor Kosarev used an animation charm today, and he made a banana not only start to dance, but sing also. Is it a more advanced spell, or..."

Harry smiled as he listened to Calypso list off her theories on why a single charm could have multiple effects. Working with Calypso was a lot different than working with Viktor. When Viktor didn't know or understand something, Harry knew that he'd have to help him. Fortunately, Harry found that by re-teaching and explaining things to Viktor, it helped him better master the material. Working with Calypso was a refreshing change of pace. Instead of needing to give Calypso the answers, Harry found that she liked to talk out the problem and to try to solve it herself first. Whenever she would get stuck or start going in the wrong direction, he would point out something she didn't think of, but, generally, Calypso would reach the conclusion by herself without too much of his help.

"...perhaps he sent a second spell that I didn't notice. He could have–"

"Calypso, it's not an advanced spell or anything. When you got your apple to dance for the first time, was the animation as good as it is now?"

"No," she said slowly, "it wasn't very good at all."

"So, if your animation charm got better the more you practiced it, what does that tell you?"

"That eventually the spell could be used for more complicated animations?"

Harry grinned. "Got it in one. The spell is the same, but Professor Kosarev has just practiced it more and has better control over what he wanted to happen. Do you want to try a multiple animation or something?"

"I was hoping to use one on my final project, but it might be too advanced. I'll have to come up with something else."

"At least you have an idea what you're going to do," Harry muttered.

"You don't?" Calypso asked, surprised. "Have you started thinking about it at all? It does have to be good enough to get you into third year Dark Arts, and from what the other students say about Grausam, he likes grandiose and impressive projects, not just advanced spells."

"I've thought about it a little, but I just can't think of anything impressive enough. Viktor's been asking me what I plan to do for Transfiguration and Charms, and I haven't told him because I don't know."

"Have you considered combining the projects for a few classes so you don't have to work as much?"

"We can do that?"

"You just need to alert the instructors beforehand so they can make sure that their schedules coordinate appropriately," Calypso explained. "I had thought about doing a Charms and Dark Arts project, but that's not likely to happen if I can't do a multiple animation."

"What were you planning on doing?"

"The Charms aspect was going to involve household charms and animation, while the Dark Arts would have been demonstrating the use of household charms in a duel."

"Sounds...complicated," Harry said as he tried to think how one could use household charms _and_ the Dark Arts. Whatever Calypso had planned, he probably didn't want to know too much about it. "Well, you could still probably use some household charms in your project if you want. Those are generally taught at the start of third year, and I could let you borrow my book to read about them." Harry went to his bag and quickly handed Calypso his Charms book.

"Thanks," she said, placing the book into her own bag. "Do you want to work on anything else?"

"I think that's enough for today," Harry said. "I'm supposed to meet Viktor for lunch anyway."

"I'll see you in Spell Creation tomorrow then," Calypso said as she grabbed her bag and left the room.

Harry quickly gathered his books and put the few desks they'd moved back into place. While Calypso didn't care about leaving Grausam's room a disorganized mess, Harry had no desire to further antagonize his Dark Arts professor. Once everything was back to normal, he walked out of the room and placed a locking charm on the door.

Entering the Main Hall, Harry muttered a curse under his breath when he saw that Kira was sitting next to Viktor. Harry contemplated turning around and getting food later, but just as he was about to leave, Viktor looked up and waved at him. Walking over to the table, Harry sat down across from Viktor and Kira.

"Hey Viktor," Harry said, "How was your practice this morning?"

"It was alright. Nicolai took a Bludger to his hand, and he called practice off early so that he could go to the hospital wing."

"And you actually left early?" Harry asked.

"Well, no," Viktor admitted. "I stayed for an hour or so to practice drills."

"Kosarev should just name you the captain," Kira said haughtily. "You're the most dedicated and talented person on the team."

"I'm also one of the youngest players, and it is rare for Seekers to be named the captain anyway."

"That shouldn't matter," Harry said, somewhat surprised to be agreeing with Kira. From the look on her face, his support was not particularly wanted.

"No one is named a captain before their fifth year. Ever. It's tradition. I will probably be named captain next year when Nicholai graduates."

"I still say that you deserve it," Kira said stubbornly. "You design most of the plays, you book the field, and you practice longer than anyone else. By Zeus, Viktor, you already do most the things that Nicolai is supposed to be doing."

Viktor gritted his teeth in frustration. He had been doing most of the captain's duties for the last two years, but Kosarev still hadn't given him the title. More than once Viktor had seriously considered injuring Nicolai during practice, but he knew if he did that, his team mates would never accept him as the new captain. Even with all that Viktor did for the team, Nicolai was far more popular. Wanting to think about something else, Viktor asked, "What time do you want to practice Charms tonight, Harry?"

Harry's eyes widened. "Oh, I'm sorry, Viktor, I forgot that we were supposed to practice tonight. Calypso and I were practicing this morning, and I lent her my Charms book. I'll have to go and get my book back. I suppose I can duplicate the pages she wanted to look at on household charms."

"Wait, wait just a minute. You," Kira pointed her finger directly at Harry, "are friends with–"

"No," Viktor interrupted, "they just practice spells together. Right, Harry?"

Harry looked between Viktor and Kira in confusion. "I don't know. I mean, I enjoy spending time with Calypso. She's actually really smart and very talented –"

"That bitch," Kira snapped, "is not talented. Old man Rosier should have smothered her at birth if you ask me."

Harry felt his heart skip a beat. _Rosier?_ He knew that name. The entire family was said to have been as dark as the Lestranges, and Death Eaters to boot, but the family line was supposed to have ended. "Calypso's last name is Rosier?" he asked weakly.

"You're friends with her, and you don't even know her last name? What's wrong with you, Pott–" Kira's eyes suddenly widened, and a moment later she started to laugh uproariously. "You didn't know! You didn't know that her father was one of the last Dark Lord's followers!"

Turning to Viktor, Harry asked, "Did you know that Calypso was a Rosier?"

Viktor met his friend's eyes and stoically replied, "Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry demanded.

"You seemed happy, and you just admitted that you think of her as a friend," Viktor said tiredly. "I...dislike the Rosier family for my own reasons, and, as long as she didn't try to harm you, I saw no reason to ruin the closest thing you had to a friend near your age."

"I-I need to go," Harry said, quickly standing up and leaving the Main Hall.

As he walked down the hallway and up the main staircase, Harry thought back to what he knew about the Rosier family. He had overheard Sirius talking about how he and his cousin Andromeda despised Andromeda's mother, Druella Black, nee Rosier. Sirius had called her a 'twisted old hag', and Andromeda apparently blamed her mother for turning her sisters against her. There was also another Rosier that Harry knew his mother absolutely hated. The only time Harry had ever heard his mother swear was when Sirius mentioned an Evan Rosier. That Rosier had apparently hurt one of his mother's friends back at Hogwarts, but she refused to talk about it beyond that.

Reaching the top of the staircase, Harry immediately made a right heading down the girls' corridor. As he walked passed all the doors, Harry realized just how many fewer girls were at Durmstrang than boys. By the time it would have taken him to get to his own room on the boys side, he had reached the Rs. Racsner, Raymond, Reiginald, and Rheinstein, soon gave way to Rippling, Rolland, and then Rosier.

Harry knocked on the door and waited.

After a few moments, the door opened and Calypso stood there looking surprised to see him. "Potter. What do you need?"

"We need to talk," Harry said brushing passed Calypso and walking into her room. Once inside, Harry came to a very abrupt stop.

The room was massive! His entire room could have fit into the space of Calypso's living room. A couch was pushed against a far wall, and a much more elegant desk was sitting in a corner.

Turning around, Harry asked, "Are all the girls' rooms this size?"

Calypso laughed. "No, Potter, my father felt that while living like a peasant would be alright for some, it was not acceptable for a Rosier to live as such."

"He must have used a space expanding charm on the entire room." Harry began to walk around the room, and he wondered if more people altered their room like this. "He probably transfigured the desk, maybe even conjured the couch. What's through that door?" he asked, gesturing to a door that seemingly shouldn't have been there.

"Do you really think that I sleep on a couch? That's my room with an attached loo."

"That…would be beyond anything I could do. I'd need to transfigure the walls or manipulate the space enhancement charm. Not to mention the attached loo. You'd need to figure out how to get the water to work, and I don't have the first idea where to begin something like that," Harry thought out loud. "I think I could do everything else. Some of the transfiguration and charms I'd have to practice, but I'm sure I could figure it out before the end of the term."

"Figured out what you're going to do for your final project?" Calypso asked knowingly.

Harry just turned and nodded his head. "What do you think? Would that be good enough?"

"To get an 'M?'" Calypso asked. "I don't know, but it'll definitely get you a 'J' which would be good enough for you to pass."

"M? J?" Harry asked looking confused. "What are you talking about?"

Calypso wasn't able to keep the surprise of her face. "Hasn't anyone explained the final grade scoring system here to you yet?"

Harry just shook his head, causing Calypso to scowl slightly.

"While we use the standard owl system for tests and such, the final grades are calculated differently," Calypso explained patiently. "There are three grades you can receive at the end of year which are considered passing. Although, technically, only two of them allow you move up a year level. The best grade you can get on your final project is an 'M.' It stands for Master, and it's awarded to the best student in each class in every year. The next passing grade is 'J' for Journeyman. If you don't get an 'M' and you want to move on to the next level in a course, you need to get a J. After a J is an 'A,' or Apprentice. This grade is passing, but you have to retake the course next year. Basically, it's a do-over."

"Next are the three failing grades. 'B' stands for 'Blood-traitor'--" Harry scowled darkly, but Calypso simply ignored him-- "--and results in you failing the course. You can petition the teacher to let you back into the class the next year, but unless the teacher really likes you, you probably won't be allowed. I hear your friend Krum is rather familiar with this grade. Worse than a 'B' is an 'S' for Squib. If you get an 'S' you fail the course and can't ever take a course in that subject ever again. That means if you get an 'S' in second year Transfiguration, you can never take a Transfiguration class at Durmstrang ever again. You are also banned from checking out books in the library on that subject–"

"What!" Harry exclaimed in horror. "So if you fail, you can't even study the information any longer?"

"Of course," Calyspo said, looking at Harry as though he were stupid. "Why should the school let someone borrow a book when they've already proven their uselessness in the subject? By letting the moron check out that book, you are stopping someone competent from reading it."

As strange as it seemed, Harry couldn't help but somewhat agree. If you couldn't do the work, why should you stop someone else from learning? "I--well, I suppose that makes sense in a way."

"Yes, I'm sure the Highmaster will be glad you approve, Potter. Now, if you get four or more 'S's in your time at Durmstrang, you are expelled. That's why a lot of people who get As or Bs just stop taking some courses--it's better to just stop than to potentially get an S. Finally, the worst grade you can get is a lowercase 'm' which stands for Muggle. This grade is given out to the worst student in each class for each year. The students who are awarded the uppercase and lowercase 'M's for each class are read off during the welcoming feast at the start of each year, so it's a great deal of pride or embarrassment to receive one."

Harry shook his head. "Hogwarts is a lot different."

"I know. My family was living in Britain during the 1970s and so father sent my brother to Hogwarts. I think it's stupid to let people who routinely fail a class to continue taking it after their fifth year."

The mention of her father and brother brought Harry back to his reason for the visit. "Why didn't you tell me you were a Rosier?"

Calypso's face quickly became devoid of any emotion. "What would you have done if I had introduced myself as Calypso Rosier and then proceeded to give you a Dark Arts book?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted.

"I'll tell you what you would have done, Potter. You would have ignored my advice, or asked Krum what he knew about me. The broomloon would have confirmed how terrible my family is, or told you that I'm dangerous because I'm better than his girlfriend at the Dark Arts. I need your help to get out of first year Charms and Transfiguration, so, yes, I avoided telling you my last name. I'm not sorry that I kept it from you."

Harry sighed. "You don't know that's what I would have done."

"Of course it is," Calypso said dismissively. "My family is one of the most notorious practitioners of the Dark Arts in Europe. You would have avoided me at all costs. The only reason you're even here now is because you've seen I'm not an evil, twisted, dark witch, and you're curious about my family."

"I also told Viktor that you were my friend," Harry snapped, slightly unnerved by how well Calypso could read his intentions.

"Well, you know who I am now, Potter. Do you still want to be my friend? I can just imagine what your parents would say."

"They'd...." Harry stopped. His parents probably wouldn't understand. Changing the subject, Harry asked, "I thought the Rosier family line had died out. My uncle Sirius said that Evan Rosier was the last."

"That was a bit of misinformation. My father was injured very badly in 1980, and he spent the rest of the war recovering in France. My mother died giving birth to me in 1979 and when my brother Evan died, I was hidden by my first cousin. Very few people knew my mother was pregnant, and those that did know were family or...associates of my father. They kept me safe and stopped anyone from knowing about me until my father was able to get me out of Britain."

"So your brother is Evan Rosier?" Harry asked.

Calypso nodded.

If Calypso's brother went to Hogwarts with his parents in the seventies, that would make her father... "Wow," Harry said, "your father must be really old."

"If you ever meet my father, I wouldn't call him old." Calypso smiled. "But yes, I guess you could say that I was a bit of a surprise."

"So, um..."

"Just ask Harry," Calypso prodded. "I know you want to know."

"Your father was a Death Eater," Harry said bluntly. "How do I know that you...well, how do I know that –"

"How do you know that I'm not trying to use you somehow?"

"Well, yeah."

Calypso sighed. "You know, Harry, we're a lot alike. Most of the school judged you the second you arrived here based on your name. It was the same for me, except while people instantly disliked you for being a talented half-blood, it took them about a week to hate me."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on Potter, surely you've heard a few things about me. I was put into a third year Dark Arts class, which only a handful of people have ever managed. My room is huge for a first year, and my father's relationship with the Highmaster is well known. Everyone thought that I was getting special privileges because of who I was."

"But you're good at the Dark Arts. People would have realized that you weren't getting special treatment for that."

"Oh, they did realize," Calypso said, a dark look crossing her face. "They realized it when I started to show how talented a duelist I am. But do you really think that made me any friends? I heard a rumor that you got jumped for doing well in your third year classes. Is that true?" Without waiting for Harry to answer, Calypso continued, "I wouldn't be surprised at all if it is true. Now, if people got upset at you for just doing better academically, how do you think that a third year would take it if they were routinely embarrassed in a duel by a first year?"

Harry winced slightly. "Not well."

"No," Calypso said dryly, "that's an understatement. My classmates started throwing darker spells at me, and I had to adapt. Harry, do you know why I need to get into third year Charms and Transfiguration?"

"Because your classmates are idiots," Harry replied.

"No that's why I _want_ to skip second year Charms and Transfiguration. I _need_ to move ahead because if I don't, it won't matter what curses I know. If I can't cast a shield charm, I'll eventually grow tired from dodging and get cursed. If I can't de-animate advanced charms or cancel advanced transfigurations, I could get really hurt. I'm not dueling first years, Potter. I've cursed older students with dark magic. If you think the students in your Dark Arts class want to hurt you, how do you think my classmates feel about me?"

"This still doesn't explain why I should trust you," Harry said with just a touch of sympathy. "You're a Rosier. You could be–"

"And you're a Potter!" Calypso shouted. "I'm not my father, just like you're not your father or brother. Merlin, you're at Durmstrang! I don't think a Potter has _ever_ come to this school, so obviously people don't have to be their families."

"Have you told your father about me?" Harry asked, looking Calypso straight in the eyes.

Calypso met his gaze unflinchingly. "No. He doesn't even know that I've talked to you. Like I said, Potter, I really need your help."

After a moment, Harry broke eye contact. "Alright, I believe you."

Extending her hand, Calypso said, "Calypso Rosier. Nice to meet you."

"Harry Potter. Likewise."

"So, are we good?"

"Yeah, I think we are...provided you ask your father what spells he used to expand your room."

Calypso smiled. "Deal. I'll see you tomorrow, Harry."

"Have you had lunch?" Harry asked. "I sort of walked out on Viktor and Kira after I found out who you are, and I haven't eaten."

"Are you sure that you want to be seen eating with me?" Calypso asked with a grin. "People will talk if they see us sitting together."

"It's not like either of our classmates will like us any less."

"True."

Walking back downstairs with Calypso, Harry couldn't help but think that perhaps he had just made another friend. Biting his lip, Harry wondered if being friends with Calypso would be a good thing or a bad thing. Either way, he wouldn't be mentioning in his letters home that he had started to enjoy spending his free time studying the Dark Arts with Calypso _Rosier. _He doubted very much that anything good would ever come from that.


	6. Durmstrang Spring Part 3

**The Myth of Perfection**

**Spell Creation Classroom, March 25** **th**

Gritting his teeth in frustration, Harry tried a clockwise swirl instead of a counter-clockwise twist. "_Lumos_."

Nothing.

"_Lumos_," he tried again.

Still nothing.

"_LUMOS_!"

"So there _is_ something that Harry Potter isn't great at? I'll alert the paper."

Harry fought the urge to send a hex at Calypso. Professor Cherny had no tolerance for spellwork that didn't relate to his class, and Calypso wouldn't ignore being hexed, especially in front of other first years. "What am I doing wrong? I didn't change the fundamentals of the spell, it should be working."

With a sigh, Calypso leaned over to look at Harry's notes. After a moment, she made a tutting sound and looked up at him. "You made far too many assumptions. Regardless of how _little_ you changed the spell, you still changed it. If you're going to stick with this project, you're going to need to completely rework the mechanics from scratch. You're fortunate it's a simple spell, or else I'd say there was no chance that you would be able to make the necessary changes in time."

"This was supposed to be my easy final project," Harry moaned. "A little tweak to an existing spell, just to show I understood the concepts."

Calypso smiled. "Oh, if you manage this, you'll certainly demonstrate that you understand the concepts. You will have essentially made a new spell, not just 'tweaked' an existing one. So, are you going to stick with it or try to come up with something new?"

"Like what?" Harry asked bitterly. "This at least makes a slight bit of sense to me. Can I look at your notes again?"

"Still trying to figure out my project? Really, Potter, it's not _that_ complex."

Muttering an insult under his breath, Harry accepted Calypso's notes and tried again to figure out what she was trying to do, and, more importantly, if anything she did could be used to help his own increasingly more difficult final project. After a solid minute of reading through her notes, Harry pushed the parchment away with a look of disgust on his face.

If there was one thing Harry Potter hated, it was being ignorant about magic. It was therefore very difficult for him to accept that he still couldn't figure out what Calypso's final project was supposed to be. That wasn't to say that her project was necessarily that complex, it was just written in _proper_ spell creation format. Instead of actually explaining what the spell did, proper format required that the mechanics of the spell be explained in nauseating detail. So, instead of just saying that the spell was a curse and giving the wand movement, Harry was struggling to analyze what effect a sixty degree upward vertical twist followed by a downward slash across the body would have..

According to his textbook, slashing movements were designed primarily for curses, but he didn't understand what effect the vertical twist would have, or why sixty degrees was required. At first he thought that it was just a generic number, but then he read the chapter on numerology and angles in his book. Apparently, when designing a spell, the specific degree could drastically affect the spell's final outcome. Unfortunately, the book didn't take the time to specifically explain the effect every different degree would have on each combination of wand movements, mostly because there were literally countless combinations and effects.

"I could just tell you," Calypso offered nonchalantly.

Harry shook his head. "I'll figure it out...eventually."

There was a slight pause before Calypso looked up at her friend and laughed softly. The sound of her laughter quickly gathered the attention of a few nearby students, who still appeared amazed that Harry Potter and Calypso Rosier were friends. With a slight grin, Calypso turned her attention back onto her work. She had a slight smile on her face for the rest of class as she watched Harry intently scrutinize her notes, to no avail.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Harry's Room, Durmstrang, April 6** **th**

_Dear Harry, _

_I know you told me to stay out of it, but Snape is threatening Professor Quirrell! After my last Quidditch game (we won by the way, Dad was really impressed at how fast I caught the Snitch.), I saw a cloaked figured run out to the Forbidden Forest. I followed him from the air on my broom, and I saw Snape and Quirrell talking. Snape said something about needing to know how to get past Quirrell's 'Hocus _ _po_ _cus.' Hermione said that's a Muggle term for magic, weird that Mum never mentioned that before. _

_Hermione figures that it's not just Fluffy guarding the stone. We think that all the teachers have put some sort of enchantment or something to protect it, and Snape is trying to figure out what they are. I think Quirrell's is the only one he doesn't know yet! _

_You know how Quirrell is, Harry, he's practically scared of his own shadow! The stone will probably be gone by the time you get this letter if we don't do something about it! Do you have any idea about what protections might be guarding the stone? What about a way we could delay Snape? I've got Hermione brainstorming, but we can't let Snape get too suspicious that we know what he's doing._

_Is it warming up yet in Siberia? Hogwarts is finally starting to get nice again. _

_Nathan_

Harry felt the need for a good pain relief potion. He thought his brother had moved on from the bizarre belief that Snape wanted to steal the Philosopher's Stone. He had to stop this right now.

_Nathan, _

_Snape is not trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone. I know he doesn't treat you great, but he and Mum are friends! Not to mention that Professor Dumbledore trusts him. If that is not enough for you, then let's just say, for the sake of argument, that you're right and Snape is threatening Quirrell to find a way to steal the stone. It wouldn't be your job to stop him. Please leave that to Professor Dumbledore. _

_Now, I'll assume that you're right about what you heard, and Snape was threatening Quirrell. Don't worry, Quirrell is a lot tougher than he looks. I don't know why he is a wreck in class, but I'd see him around Hogwarts sometimes, and he was acting perfectly normal. He didn't even have a stutter. So maybe he's just nervous in front of students for some reason. _

_Of course Siberia is still cold. I_ _t's in the tundra, _ _Nathan, it never gets warm here. The first time I'll see some land that isn't frozen will be after I Portkey back to England for summer vacation. Fortunately, it's only another two months for me. Too bad that you have to wait until the middle of June to get out._

_Please, don't do anything stupid._

_Your brother,  
Harry_

Harry stood up and made his way to the Owlery. Hopefully his brother would get the message and forget the entire thing with the Philosopher's Stone.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Bloody Books**

**Durmstrang Library, April 15** **th**

Placing his book on the table, Harry cast the_ tempus_ spell and casually gazed at the time. He suddenly felt his blood run cold. It couldn'tbe _that_ late. Harry repeated the spell twice just to make sure he hadn't done anything wrong before groaning and smacking his head on the table.

Calypso was going to kill him.

He was supposed to help her with some of the charms for her final project over an hour ago. By now she had probably given up waiting, banged on his door a few times, and started searching the school so she could drag him off somewhere to hex him in private.

Harry doubted that Calypso would understand the excuse "But I was reading a really good book and forgot." While she wasn't averse to spending time in the library, Calypso was a firm believer that one only got better at magic through practicing spells. As she had said the last time she had dragged him out of the library, "Having an encyclopedic knowledge of spells won't help you if you can't cast any of them."

"I wonder just what's going to happen to me when she finds me," Harry asked himself as he left the library. "She'll probably nicely ask me to show her how to charm the knife to dice again only to use the spell on me."

He and Calypso had grown a lot closer as of late, but that still didn't mean he wasn't a little wary of all the Dark Magic the girl knew. After all, it was a little difficult to be someone's friend when one minute you were joking, and the next she was cursing a third year.

Hoping that Calypso would have had enough time to calm down, Harry turned around and walked back into the library. It would be better if he had some witnesses for when Calypso eventually caught up with him. Calypso wasn't stupid enough to attack him in the library, at least not in front of Lady Doktor. The old librarian had been keeping a very sharp eye on Harry ever since he had been attacked at the start of the spring term.

As Harry was about to sit down at a table near the entrance, he heard someone shout an incantation from behind him. Remembering what happened in January, Harry flung himself out of the chair as a nasty purple spell with yellow swirls passed over his head.

Harry watched in horror as the doors to the library flew open and Calypso snarled out, "Alright, Potter, where are y-"

The spell struck Calypso in her chest, causing her to scream and fall to her knees. Not a second later, Calypso's head snapped back and blood seemed to erupt out of her mouth, soaking the area around her. There was a mad rush as people began jumping out of their seats and turning tables over to avoid being hit.

Enraged, Harry turned to where the spell had come from. He didn't see anything at first, but then he noticed a slight haze quickly moving away from him down the history aisle. Recognizing the work of a poorly cast Disillusionment Charm, Harry jabbed his wand at the visual distortion and began casting. "_Stupefy! Diffindo! Stupefy!_"

The first spell missed and hit a book, showering the area in paper fragments. The cutting spell spell was stopped by the attacker casting a shield spell, but Harry's third spell managed to break the shield and give a partial hit. The Disillusionment Charm faded away, and Harry saw a blond haired boy stumble into the nearest bookshelf, but remain on his feet.

"_Stupefy_," a sharp voice snapped.

A red Stunning spell came from behind Harry, hitting the blond boy and dropping him to the ground with a loud THUMP. Harry turned around and found a livid Lady Doktor stalking over towards him. The librarian's wand was pointed at the unconscious boy. Unable to help himself, Harry fired another stunning spell at the unconscious student.

"Do you know him?" Lady Doktor asked angrily.

Harry could only shake his head. The boy looked to be in his fifth year, and Harry had never seen him in his entire time at Durmstrang. He certainly wasn't in any of Harry's classes. Growling in frustration that some random student had tried to curse him behind his back, Harry raised his wand to send another curse. Before Harry could finish his incantation, Lady Doktor snatched his wand out of his hand and sent him a purposeful look that screamed 'do nothing.' Quickly Lady Doktor bound the boy tightly with ropes and levitated him away after returning Harry's wand. Harry followed discretely behind her, wanting to check on Calypso and to the boy get severely punished.

As Harry followed Lady Doktor, the crowd that had gathered parted to let them pass. When Harry made it back to the front of the library, he saw that the Highmaster had arrived along with Professor Rosemburg and Lady Shluga. While Calypso was no longer vomiting blood, none of the blood around the front of the library had yet to be Vanished. The sight of so much blood made Harry's stomach turn uncomfortably. Pushing a fourth year to the side, Harry emptied the contents of his stomach under a nearby table. He felt a hand on his back, and he looked up to see Viktor looking at him in concern.

"Is she okay?" Harry asked, gesturing to Calypso.

"I don't know," Viktor replied gravely.

"Highmaster!" exclaimed Lady Doktor. "This is the little shit who sent the curse. Harry Potter was able to Stun him before he could get away."

"Armando, take him to the dungeons!" Karkaroff snarled, spit flying from his mouth. "I must alert Ms. Rosier's father of the situation."

With a sharp nod, Armando Kosarev, the Charms professor, levitated the boy out of the library while Professor Rosmeburg levitated Calypso to the hospital wing, Lady Shluga casting spells over her body as they walked.

Harry walked forward and locked eyes with the Lady Doktor. "What will happen to him?"

"He will be punished most severely for this, Mr. Potter, of that I can assure you," Lady Doktor growled. "I doubt very much that you will be seeing him for sometime after this."

Viktor placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "We should go."

"Yes, Mr. Potter," Lady Doktor agreed. "Go check on your friend."

Knowing a dismissal when he heard one, Viktor guided Harry out of the library.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Bedside Manner **

**Outside the Hospital Wing, Durmstrang, April 20** **th**

"Harry," Viktor protested, "I really don't like this idea."

"Calypso's been in the hospital wing for five days, Viktor, and none of the Professors will tell me how she's doing. It only took a day for me to re-grow my entire scapula. I just want to make sure she's alright."

"Why don't you just ask Professor Rosemburg again? Maybe he'll tell you something this time."

Harry snorted and gave Viktor a look that clearly said 'Are you kidding me?' Harry had tried asking his teachers, and even Lady Doktor, about Calypso's condition, but all they told him was that the situation was being handled. Harry had gone to the hospital wing under the pretense of a migraine yesterday, and he knew that Calypso had been given her own room at the end of the ward. Harry wasn't sure what was wrong with her, but he wanted to at least make sure she was going to be alright.

"But why do I have to be the one who gets cursed?" Viktor whined.

"Oh, come on, Viktor, it's just a Babbling Curse. It won't even hurt you. It'll just take some time for the matron to fix."

"I still don't like this," Viktor said half-heartedly.

"Viktor," Harry said softly, "Calypso's my friend."

"Someday you will have to tell me how _that_ happened," Viktor said, unable to understand why Harry would befriend the violent girl who was known for viciously cursing people with the Dark Arts. Outside of Harry, not a single person even seemed to care what happened to Calypso. In fact, there was more concern over Calypso's attacker, Reginald Burke, than Calypso. Burke hadn't been seen since Professor Kosarev levitated him into the dungeons, and it was rumored that Calypso's father had arrived and driven the boy insane with the Cruciatus.

"Stop stalling," Harry said as he took out his wand.

"Fine," Viktor grumbled, "but if we get in trouble, I'm going to send Kira to kick your ass."

"I'm terrified," Harry said sarcastically as he sent the curse at Viktor. "Did it work?"

"Idon'tknowifitworkedornotIdon'?Ohwowthisis–"

"Alright it worked, let's go." Harry said, dragging Viktor around the corner and into the Hospital Wing. "Lady Shluga, there's been an accident."

The large matron of the hospital wing was quickly upon them in seconds. "What happened?" she demanded.

"Viktor and I were practicing some spells when he tripped and fell into a Babbling Curse. I don't know the counter, and the book said that if done wrong..."

"Yes, Mr. Potter, you did the right thing bringing him here. Thor's bloody hammer, I hate this time of year. Students playing around with magic beyond their ability and constantly causing accidents when they can't control their final projects. Well, take a seat Mr. Krum, you're going to be stuck here until I can find the proper counter-curse. At least you're not physically harmed." Lady Shluga left Viktor sitting on a bed and quickly walked towards her office where she kept some of her more obscure healing books.

"'—"

"_Silencio_. Relax, Viktor. The Babbling Curse is just a tad bit obscure. It'll probably take her an hour or so to find the right counter and figure out how to do it," Harry whispered as he left his glaring friend sitting on the bed and walked toward Calypso's private room.

Tapping his wand against the doorknob, Harry tried to use _Alohomora_, but the door didn't budge. _Damn_. He had really hoped that there wouldn't be any more security on the room. He was about to try a more advanced unlocking charm when an angry voice spoke up from directly behind him. "Just _what_ do you think you're doing, boy?"

Harry spun around, and found himself looking up at an angry-looking man with white hair and dark brown eyes. The man wasn't dressed in the traditional blood-red robes of Durmstrang; instead, he was wearing a black robe with a cloak over his shoulders. His wand was out, and it was glowing a particularly nasty shade of violet as its owner pointed it at Harry's chest.

"I asked you a question," the man growled, pressing his wand to Harry's chest. "Why are you trying to break into my daughter's room?"

Harry's eyes widened in horror as he realized who had caught him trying to break into Calypso's room.

With narrowed eyes, Calypso's father raised his wand from Harry's chest and made a slight flicking gesture. It was a seemingly innocuous wand movement, but Harry felt all the air in his lungs leave and he fell to floor gasping for breath.

"I shall ask one more time before I get upset," Mr. Rosier said calmly. "Why were you trying to break into my daughter's room?"

"I wanted to make sure she was alright," Harry gasped from the floor.

Mr. Rosier paused and looked curiously at the boy on the ground in front of him. "And why would the health of my daughter be of interest to you?"

Harry slowly picked himself up, slightly rubbing chest. "Calypso's my friend, sir, and it's a little bit my fault that she was hurt. I just wanted to make sure she was going to be alright."

The man seemed to appraise Harry for a moment before he lowered his wand. "So, you are the Potter brat that Burke was attempting to curse. I should have realized. Up close you do resemble your father, though you seem to have inherited your mother's eyes," Mr. Rosier said disapprovingly.

Not wanting to think about when Calypso's father might have been close enough discern his mother's exact eye color, Harry hesitantly asked, "Is Calypso going to be alright?"

Mr. Rosier simply started at Harry for a long moment, and he quickly became very uncomfortable. Harry felt like he was being judged, and the last thing he wanted at the moment was to appear lacking.

"The curse that Burke cast was supposed to be an entrail-expelling curse, but the fool hadn't practiced it enough. Naturally, he screwed it up. Do you know what happens when you cast a spell that you have no control over, Potter?" Mr. Rosier demanded.

Harry nodded hesitantly. "They're very dangerous. Back at Hogwarts I destroyed a lot of furniture practicing the Engorgement charm."

"While in some cases an imperfect spell will have no effect, more often than not, like your failed engorgement charm and Mr. Burke's entrail-expelling curse, an imperfect spell's effects are very different from those of a properly executed spell." Mr. Rosier waved his wand and then taped it against Calypso's door. Harry heard the click of a lock, and Mr. Rosier pushed it open. Harry wasn't going to follow, but Mr. Rosier held it open for him. "Well, you wanted to see her condition, did you not?"

Harry nodded his head and stepped into the room. It was very dark at first, but a wave from Mr. Rosier's wand caused several torches to ignite. Harry simply took in the sight in front of him. Calypso was resting on the bed, seemingly unconscious. She looked fine, but the angry look on Mr. Rosier's face told Harry that clearly wasn't the case. "What happened?"

"Instead of causing the intestines to be vomited out, the spell acted as a very powerful rupturing curse, and destroyed both her small and large intestines as well as doing indiscriminate damage to other organs," Mr. Rosier said, looking murderous. "She will recover, but having to repair and grow back internal organs is not as simple as replacing a bone or rebuilding a muscle. It is a very dangerous process, involving dozens of potions, some of which are very difficult to brew, making acquiring them difficult. She will remain in the hospital wing for several more days at the very least. Now, has this satisfied your curiosity?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said looking at the prone figure of Calypso. It felt very odd seeing the girl look so vulnerable.

"Good," Mr. Rosier said. "Now, do you care to explain your relationship with my daughter?"

Harry swallowed nervously. "We've been studying with one another for a while, sir. Calypso has been helping me with some spells and my final project so I can skip my second year Dark Arts class."

"My daughter is hardly benevolent, Mr. Potter. Why would she help you?"

"Well, it's not exactly one-sided. I'm in third year Charms and Transfiguration, and I've been helping her so that she can test into her third year Charms and Transfiguration class next year."

"I see. You said you were my daughter's friend. However, Calypso has not ever mentioned having a friend," Mr. Rosier said snidely.

Harry looked a little down at the news. "Well, I can't speak for her, but I consider her a friend, sir. That spell was meant for me, and I just wanted to make sure she was alright."

As Harry was about to leave Calypso's private room, Mr. Rosier spoke up. "It doesn't bother you, Potter, that your father and I met on a few less-than-friendly occasions during the war?"

Harry froze. His father hadn't told him and his brother a lot about the war, and it took every ounce of self control Harry possessed not to turn around and gape at Mr. Rosier. Harry took a moment to calm himself. Getting mad or defensive would not be a good thing. Not now. Slowly, he thought about what he knew. The Rosiers were Death Eaters. His father was very close to Dumbledore and a member of the Order of the Phoenix, an organization he had overheard his uncle Sirius talking about once with his parents after they thought he and Nathan had gone to sleep. It wasn't completely impossible that that Mr. Rosier and his father would have fought. The thought made some bile rise up in his throat. Harry found it very hard to imagine his father in any kind of war that didn't involve pranks.

Slowly, Harry turned around and saw that Mr. Rosier was still waiting for some sort of reaction or comment. Doing his best not to show his nervousness, Harry quietly said, "It was a war. You were on different sides."

"How very... understated, Potter, but correct, I suppose," Mr. Rosier commented darkly. "What if I told you that I didn't want you near my daughter?"

"I doubt that's up to either of us," Harry said more boldly than he felt. "If I told Calypso I couldn't help her anymore, well, she would probably yell at me, then curse me, and afterwards say that we aren't done until she says we are."

Harry wasn't sure, but for a second he thought that he saw a small smile start to form on Mr. Rosier's face before the man went back to being frighteningly stoic. "Yes, my daughter can be quite tenacious at getting what she wants. She got that from her mother, who was just as unyielding."

After a few tense moments, Harry realized that Mr. Rosier wasn't going to say anything else to him, so he subtly left the room. He didn't know what to think of Mr. Rosier. The man appeared to care about Calypso, but Harry was more than a little bit intimidated by him.

As Harry approached the exit of the Hospital Wing, he spotted an irritated-looking Viktor being fussed over by Lady Shluga, and he couldn't help but smile at the Bulgarian's blabbering protests to being poked with her wand.

"All better?" he asked.

"No!Thiscursedoesn'twanttobetakenoff,andnowshethinksit'lltakemorethan—"

Lady Shluga quickly cast a silencing charm on Viktor, who was now doing his best to send a murderous glare at Harry. "I'm afraid Mr. Krum is going to have to spend the night. I have done the counter-curse, but it looks like it won't take effect for a few hours. His speech will slowly return to normal, but not all at once. That was a nasty curse, Mr. Potter. You should perhaps practice someplace safer so that other students don't get harmed."

"I will, ma'am. See you later, Viktor," Harry said, smiling innocently at the angry Bulgarian.

**ooo0000ooo**

**  
Rising Tensions**

**Main Hall, Durmstrang, April 26** **th**

"So is it true?" Kira asked, immediately sitting down across from Viktor and Harry. "Were Dirk and Heinrich really wearing _that_ in your Dark Arts class yesterday?"

Viktor looked up from his conversation with Harry and his face immediately darkened. "Yes," he said angrily. "I duel Dirk next class, and I'm going to make him wish he was never born."

Harry was very surprised at the sudden rage in his friend's voice. Since he had known Viktor, Harry found that very little truly upset his friend. While Harry knew that Viktor didn't appreciate how he was treated by many of his peers, he tended to use that as motivation to become better, not as a reason to hurt them. So why was Viktor so upset about what someone were wearing?

"What happened?" Harry asked.

Much to Harry's surprise, it was Kira who answered. "These two assholes came into class with Grindelwald's mark embroidered on their clothing," she spat. "The fact that their families were known supporters of his only makes it worse."

"I didn't know Grindelwald had a mark," Harry admitted. "Is it like the Dark Mark that You-Know-Who used?"

"You British and your stupid You-Know-Who nonsense," Kira said disapprovingly. "He was an incredibly powerful wizard, but he is dead. Can't you call him by his name? I don't want to sit at the table listening to you talk about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named all time. Call him the Dark Lord if you are too terrified to actually speak a name."

"Fine," Harry snapped. "Was Grindelwald's mark like the _Dark Lord's_?"

"No, Grindelwald's mark is three shapes. A straight line within a circle, which is enclosed in a triangle," Viktor explained still looking upset.

"I think I've seen that before," Harry said slowly. "Isn't that etched into the wall in a few places?"

Viktor's face hardened. "Yes. Grindelwald was a student here, and he carved the markings into the stone before he was expelled in his sixth year. He then managed to charm them so that they can never be removed."

"There is a rumor that the marks are actually cursed," Kira added. "Grindelwald conquered Durmstrang during his rise to power, and he easily could have worked a curse into the school's wards. Either way, only three professors have ever tried to remove the marks, and they all committed suicide not a week after they started working to remove them."

Both disgusted and slightly impressed at Grindelwald's impressive feat of magic, Harry asked, "So these two Germans in your Dark Arts class wore the mark yesterday?"

"Yes. My grandfather was the Minister of Defense in Bulgaria during Grindelwald's rise," Viktor explained. "When he refused to surrender to Grindelwald, even after my country had been defeated, Grindelwald tortured and killed him as punishment. Wearing the mark of that monster is an insult to everything my grandfather fought and died for. I will _not_ let them get away with it."

Harry nodded in understanding. If people around Hogwarts suddenly decided to embroider the Dark Mark on their uniforms because they thought it was cool, most of the student body, himself included, would be screaming for their blood. Harry was about to suggest a particularly nasty hex that would cause someone to run around in circles until they passed out when Calypso sat down across from him.

"You're back!" Harry exclaimed.

With a slight smile on her face Calypso nodded. "I was released earlier today."

"Really? Why weren't you in Spell Creation?" Harry asked.

A strange expression flickered across Calypso's face, but before Harry could comment on it, she said, "My father had to talk to me about some things, and Lady Shluga had to explain the potions regimen I still need to take."

"Potter why don't you and Rosier go somewhere else," Kira said bluntly. "Now that she's back gracing us with her presence, you don't have to follow Viktor around like a lonely kneazle."

"So what have I missed?" Calypso asked, completely ignoring Kira.

Somewhat surprised to see both Viktor and Kira glaring at Calypso, Harry said, "Well, after you were cursed, Karkaroff ordered that Burke be taken to the dungeons. He hasn't been seen since, although there have been some...rumors."

"Let me guess." Calypso rolled her eyes. "Everyone believes that my father has tortured the sod into madness, or that I wasn't even seriously hurt, and have spent that last few weeks practicing Dark Arts spells on poor innocent Burke under my father's tutelage."

"Um, yes. Among other things," Harry said uncomfortably.

"Idiots," Calyspo scowled. "My father told me that Burke was suspended, and his family has decided to remove him from Durmstrang. So, unfortunately, I won't be able to curse him anytime soon. Anything else interesting happen?"

Harry shrugged. "Two people showed up in Viktor's Dark Arts class wearing Grindelwald's mark."

"And I thought Burke was the stupidest person at this school," Calypso muttered. "I do hope someone cursed them for it."

"Dirk and Heinrich's families supported Grindelwald. Just like yours did, Rosier," Viktor growled out.

Suddenly Harry understood just why Viktor did not like the idea of him hanging out with Calypso. It would seem that Voldemort wasn't the only Dark Lord the Rosier family had supported in the past century.

"My grandfather supported Grindelwald, Krum, and he was killed over fifty years ago. My father was fifteen when Grindelwald was stopped, and I couldn't care less about the "Greater Good." If you have a problem with me, let's hear it," Calypso said challenging.

Viktor looked surprised. "You do not support Grindelwald's beliefs?"

"I do to a degree," Calypso admitted. "I think Muggles are all useless, but I don't think that all Muggle-borns should be killed on sight. That said, Muggle-borns don't posses nearly as many talents as purebloods and halfbloods."

"Excuse me? You're joking, right?" Harry said angrily. His mother was Muggle born, and she was one of the most talented people he knew!

Calypso was momentarily surprised by Harry's outburst before a smile crossed her face. "Relax, Harry, I don't mean they are any less _magical_. Just that Muggle-borns don't develop rare talents like becoming Animagi or Metamorphmagi. Those abilities tend to only appear in purebloods and half-bloods. You should know that, Harry. The Potters are well known for being Animagi."

Harry's anger quickly turned to confusion. Was that true? He hadn't thought about why his mother wasn't an Animagus like his dad or Uncle Sirius. He just assumed she never bothered to learn it because she seemed to enjoy Potions and Charms more than Transfiguration. Was it because she _couldn't_ become an Animagus? "So you're saying that Muggle-borns don't have innate special magical talents?"

"There are always a few exceptions," Calypso conceded, "but for the most part, yes. Muggle-borns tend not to have any special talents beyond the basic ability to perform magic. Of course, while it doesn't happen often, there are some pureblood families that never developed a single rare ability either." Calypso looked over at Kira and smirked at the older girl. "You'd know a lot about that, wouldn't you, Megara?"

Surprised, Harry turned to look at Kira, who was practically fuming in rage. "Shut it, bitch. Hades, you'd think nearly being killed would humble you."

"Still bitter about being the laughingstock of pureblood society, I see," Calypso taunted before turning her attention away from Kira. "Did that answer your question, Krum?"

Viktor didn't look exactly pleased, but Harry could tell he wasn't as angry at Calypso as before. "So you still think you are better than Muggle-borns, but you do not dislike them or advocate their deaths?" he clarified.

"I don't know if I dislike Muggle-borns or not. I've never met one," Calypso commented casually, "but yes, I know I am better than them. I'm committed to being a powerful witch, and my family line has produced Seers, Metamorphmagi, Ani–"

"Why don't you just mate with a troll, Rosier," Kira spat. "That way you can get some of their magically resistant skin mixed into your oh-so-wonderful bloodline."

"The Rosier family has developed enough talents on our own without needing to lower ourselves to breeding with magical creatures." A dark smirk appeared on Calypso's face. "But for someone whose bloodline is as pathetic as yours, Megara, maybe that would be an option to consider. Maybe then your family won't be continually rejected at the Athens Academy of Magic."

As Kira looked ready to draw her wand, Harry whispered to Viktor, "Do you want to get out of here?"

With a look at the two bickering witches, who now seemed oblivious to their presence at the table, Viktor nodded. "Yes. Do you want to go fly?"

After a moment, Harry agreed. While he had very little interest in flying, that certainly didn't mean he didn't know how, and Calypso would not be happy when she realized he had decided to leave while she was arguing with Kira. The last place she would ever think to look for him would be on the Quidditch pitch.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Harry's Room, Durmstrang, May 11** **th**

_Harry, _

_To answer your question, no, I can't become an Animagus. I don't have the ability. Your father tried to help me find my animal near the end of the war, thinking that it would be a good way to escape from Death Eaters in case I was ever cornered and couldn't Apparate. I was never able to develop the talent, though that's not very surprising. _ _Becoming an Animagus _ _is an exceptionally rare talent amongst wizards and witches. I think it's less than 10 percent of all witches and wiz_ _ards who ha_ _ve the ability. The fact that your father and Sirius were both able to become Animagi is a slight statistical improbability. _

_Why the sudden interest in Animagi? You're not thinking about becoming _ _one, a_ _re you? Please tell me you're_ _not. It is a very dangerous process, Harry. Your father didn't want to tell you and your brother because he was afraid of scaring you, but your uncle Sirius had a very bad accident when practicing the transformation during his _ _fourth_ _ year. He was too full of himself and tried to force the transformation before he was ready. Had your father not been there to return him to human form, Sirius could have died. _

_How are your projects going? The idea of a final project is very interesting, and your uncle Remus and I agree that if Hogwarts had something like tha__t, we __would have been terrified that our projects weren't good enough. I hope _you're _handling everything alright. Your father and I think a spell chain would be a very impressive project for your Defense class. I didn't even find out about them until my fourth year, but Professor Snape was apparently familiar with them at your age. When I told him that you were trying to make one, he asked if he could see a copy of the chain when you finish it. _

_As far as your Charms project is concerned, I think a Space-Enhancement Charm is a very good idea. I'm sure with enough practice, you'll be able to successfully cast it. While I didn't learn the spell until the start of my fourth year, I remember it wasn't very hard to master._

_Your father and Uncle Sirius say hello, an_ _d Un_ _cle Remus is wondering if you could tell him anything more about the Durmstrang library. He's very curious about how students know to avoid the dangerous or cursed books. I admit I'm a little curious about that as well. I remember Madam Pince telling me about a particularly nasty book that Hogwarts had in the Restricted section that made someone's eyes bleed the longer they read, and the book was charmed to keep the reader's attention. Please tell me you're being careful._

_All my love, _

_Mum _

Putting the letter down on his desk, Harry was slightly surprised that Calypso was right, and his mother couldn't become an Animagus. He hadn't realized just how rare Animagi were in the wizarding world. Harry just assumed that his uncle Remus hadn't become one since he was a werewolf. But less than ten percent had the ability? That wasn't a lot at all. When one considered that it takes a lot of work to become an Animagus, Harry suddenly realized why not all the professors at Hogwarts were transforming into cats like Professor McGonagall.

As he read over his mother's warning about not trying the transformation, Harry chuckled slightly. He could just see his mum yelling at his father for putting ideas in his head, and that he shouldn't have told Nathan and him all those stories about how he would sneak into the Forbidden Forest with Sirius and Remus when they were at Hogwarts.

The bit about what had nearly happened to Sirius was shocking. Harry knew that the transformation was difficult, but to actually die attempting it? Harry was very glad his father had been there. Sirius could go overboard with pranks sometimes, but Harry couldn't imagine growing up without him there. Uncle Sirius was always able to cheer him and Nathan up when they were younger, and to not have him around would have been horrible.

Taking out the spell chain that he had perfected the night before with Calypso's help, Harry cast the duplication charm on it. He'd send it to his mother so she could give it to Professor Snape. Spell chains were a series of spells where the last wand movement of the first spell flowed into the next spell's first wand movement. The result was a near endless stream of spells that immediately put one's opponent on the defensive.

That wasn't to say they were an unbeatable tactic. All an opponent had to do to stop a spell chain was to throw the caster off at one point and the entire chain would be ruined. When Calypso was explaining them to Harry, she demonstrated how they were used in a duel. Harry had been very impressed, and the fact that spell chains weren't taught until the very beginning of third year Dark Arts meant that the project would be advanced enough to let him skip the second year class.

Harry was pleasantly surprised that his mum thought he could easily do the Expansion Charm. His Charms project was proving to be more difficult than he thought, even though the charm itself wasn't that hard to cast. The problem was keeping the room that size indefinitely. A simple _finite _would cause the room to shrink back to normal, and Harry knew Professor Kosarev would test to see if the charm was resistant to the simplest canceling spell.

Unfortunately, permanent charms, or enchantments, were well beyond anything Harry could do. He had tried to practice casting an enchantment to expand a room, just to see if he was capable of it. He had chosen an out-of-the-way storage closet on the first floor to practice, and the results were spectacular… in a very bad way. The closet walls that Harry had tried to enchant somehow managed grow teeth, and the closet started constricting to chew the things inside of it! Harry had left as soon as he realized his error, and Viktor had casually mentioned the next day how the Durmstrang caretaker was now swearing revenge against a student that tried to kill him.

After the debacle of the storage closet, Harry had abandoned his enchanting efforts. He did not want to screw up again and get into trouble. The Durmstrang caretaker made Mr. Filch at Hogwarts look like a harmless puffskein. He also wasn't sure, but he was suspicious that Calypso might have figured out that it was him who was responsible for what happened to the caretaker. She had looked right at him and started to laugh after Viktor told his story. She also seemed to have a knowing smirk on her face for the rest of the day whenever she looked at him.

Still, since he couldn't enchant the walls, Harry only had one option left. There was a way to tie a spell into an object so that the _finite incantatem_ had to be directed at the object in order to cancel the spell's function. It was used by wizards who, like Harry, found enchantments to be very difficult and easy to mess up. They were also used when someone only wanted a charm to be in effect for a certain amount of time. While an enchantment could be removed, it was difficult to do so.

The problem was that preparing an object to hold a charm was difficult. Most often, people just bought pre-prepared objects beforehand and then just worried about casting the charm. Harry was tempted to just do that. After all, making a receptacle that could be used to hold a charm was far more difficult than the actual Enlarging Charm Harry was going to use for his project. After reading a book on their creation in the library, however, Harry felt that it was a challenge he could do. While not advanced enough to be on the Charms N.E.W.T. examination, the spell was frequently used as a bonus question on the Charms O.W.L. Harry enjoyed the challenge, but he had ordered a few pre-prepared receptacles just in case he didn't manage to succeed.

Working on creating a receptacle was what Harry spent most of his free time doing now. It was a very complicated process. There were a half-dozen spells that needed to be cast on the object, and if one of them failed or was cast incorrectly, it wouldn't work. Viktor had found the entire process fascinating, and had asked several questions about how it was done. Harry had tried to explain it, but it seemed like the process was just a little beyond his Bulgarian friend's grasp of Charms.

Harry chuckled nervously at the last part of his mother's letter. Just how did students know not to touch certain cursed Dark Arts books? It turned out that a list was provided to every student at the start of the year, and it included the names of all the cursed books in the library. Due to an administrative oversight, Harry was never given the list, and the amount of time he spent in the library, or talking with Lady Doktor, made everyone assume that he had received a copy. A few weeks ago, Calypso had commented to Viktor about how next year the list was supposed to grow by several books, and Harry had asked what they were talking about.

They had explained and shown him a copy of the list, which Harry immediately duplicated. Viktor and Calypso then seemed to bond while simultaneously calling him a complete and total idiot for browsing through the Dark Arts section without knowing which books could cause him serious harm. When Harry pointed out that Calypso had stopped him from reading _Sonnets of a Sorcerer_, Calypso had bitingly responded that she just assumed he wasn't paying attention to the title or had forgotten it was on the list. Needless to say, both Viktor and Calypso left the room sometime later after making sure Harry knew he was an exceptionally lucky but very stupid Englishman.

**ooo0000ooo**

**It's Good to Have Friends**

**Harry's Room, Durmstrang, May 20** **th**

"I can't believe it worked!" exclaimed Harry as he pulled Calypso into a hug.

"I know. That was an incredible piece of magic, Harry. You should tell, Professor Kosarev," she suggested.

"I agree," Viktor said seriously.

Harry smiled as he looked over his expanded room. He had only managed yesterday to put the finishing touches on the object he would be using to tie his Space-Enhancement Charm to, and today was his test to see if he could use it for his final project.

"Let's go," Viktor said, "we should go tell Professor Kosarev.".

"Now?" Harry asked in surprise. He had planned on waiting until it was his turn to show his final project.

"Definitely now," Calypso agreed. "If you wait until later in the week, he's going to be busy looking at final projects."

"I'll go and bring him here. I need to speak with him about moving my final project up a day. I need to be in Bulgaria to start training with the junior national team by the 26th, and I need to be gone by Friday. The Highmaster has already given me permission to miss the leaving feast." Krum paused at the door and then added. "I will also get Kira. She will be impressed by this."

"More like jealous because she can't cast this kind of magic," Calypso muttered.

Harry looked at Calypso curiously. "What exactly is the deal between the two of you?"

"I don't like her," Calypso said succinctly.

"Just because her family doesn't have any magical talents?" asked Harry disapprovingly.

"Please," said Calypso condescendingly. "If it were just that, I would simply ignore her like the nobody she is. She's the one who started it though. In my first Dark Arts class, she implied that because my father is friends with the Highmaster, I used favoritism to get into the class. After I embarrassed her in our first duel, she's hated me ever since. But believe me, the feeling's mutual."

Harry shook his head. "That's really stupid. If you used favoritism, you probably would have failed out of the class. Why would she even think that?"

"Because she's a jealous little harpy with an inferiority complex. Still, the rarity of people testing into third year classes made some of my classmates believe her."

"It can't be that rare. I got into both third year Transfiguration and Charms," Harry reminded her.

"How is it that you know so much about some aspects of Durmstrang, yet nothing of others?" Calypso asked. "Harry, only a handful of people have _ever_ tested into two third year classes, and no one has ever managed three."

"Really?"

"Don't sound so surprised," Calypso said. "There is a reason most of our peers dislike you, but don't try to hurt you."

"People have twice tried to curse me in the back, Calypso." Harry pointed out. "I'm pretty sure that counts as trying to hurt me."

Calypso rolled her eyes. "You've been attacked what, two? Three times? Do you know the number of times most the kids in our year have been hexed or cursed by older students? Before I started showing how vicious I was in duels, I couldn't walk to class without having a hex shot at me. Ask Viktor about his first term here, and how often the older years cursed him. It's almost like a rite of passage for the older students to pick on the younger years. But you, Harry, you lucked out. When we got back to school in January, Karkaroff started handing out serous punishments to anyone using offensive magic in the corridors. That alone made people wary to openly attack you."

"I didn't know that," Harry admitted. "I remember the rule was changed, but –"

"No one ever wants to be the student Karkaroff uses to make an example out of. Not to mention that you quickly started showing what you were capable of in Transfiguration and Charms. People might have been jealous, but few of them were stupid enough to go overboard. The fact that you've made it known you're testing into the third year Dark Arts class, and most of all, that you're friends with _me,_ has convinced people to mostly leave you alone." Seeing that Harry still wasn't getting her point, Calypso decided to be blunt. "Potter, people are scared of you!"

"What? No way." Harry said completely flabbergasted.

"Do you know who is synonymous with testing into multiple third year classes?" Calypso asked.

"No."

"Gellert Grindelwald. He tested into third year Dark Arts and Transfiguration. There have been others, but Grindelwald is the one that everyone remembers. Need I say more?"

"Ugh, no, that's…wow," Harry replied. "So people actually are scared... of me?"

"Of course. You are _my_ friend, and anyone who is friends with me must be evil," Calypso said sarcastically. "Ever since people realized that we hang out, and that I've been helping you prepare to jump into your third year Dark Arts class, there have been rumors that I've twisted your mind and convinced you to become the next Dark Lord."

"Are you serious?" Harry asked in horror. "Why is this the first time I'm hearing about this?"

"Would _you_ talk about how evil an up-and-coming Dark Lord is in front of him?" Calypo asked.

"But how did you know?"

Calypso just smirked. "I have my ways."

"But why didn't Viktor tell me?" Harry demanded.

"Viktor?" Calypso laughed. "He's been the subject of insults and rumors about how stupid he is since his first year. He doesn't pay any attention to that stuff. And neither should you, actually. Let the idiots have their rumors. If it keeps them from bothering us, I don't particularly care what they say."

While Harry wasn't comfortable being known as a future Dark Lord by his peers, if thinking he was some evil Dark Lord in training would stop the other kids from bothering him, well he could live with that. "Fine. I think it's stupid, but whatever."

"Exactly," Calypso said with a beaming smile. "Let them say what they want. It's not like they really matter anyway, at least that's what my father says."

Not particularly liking that he was agreeing with Mr. Rosier, Harry decided to change the subject. "So we're friends, huh? Your dad said you didn't have a friend who you studied with."

The smile on Calypso face didn't fade at all. "He was mistaken."

As Harry returned Calypso's smile, the door opened and Professor Kosarev walked inside followed by Viktor and Kira. "Potter," Kosarev said as he appraised Harry's obviously expanded room, "Krum said you had something to show me, and that I would be impressed."

"Um, yes, sir. For my final project, I wanted demonstrate the Space-Enlargement-Charm," Harry explained.

"Clearly, you managed to succeed. I seriously doubt Ms. Rosier, Mr. Krum, or Ms. Megara would have been able to cast such a charm," Kosarev commented casually, not appearing at all concerned that he just insulted the ability of several of his students. "_Finite_," he said, pointing his wand at the nearest wall. The stone flashed red briefly, but it didn't reverse the charm. "Impressive, Potter. Surely you didn't manage to enchant it?"

"No, sir. I tried to enchant it, but I wasn't able to do it," Harry admitted, unable to meet his professor's eyes.

"Since your room appears to not have suffered any dramatic magical change, I guess I can assume that you are responsible for Yuri's biting closet?" Kosarev chuckled.

Harry blushed, but didn't confirm that it was him. Krum and Kira both shared identical looks of surprise at that information while Calypso just smirked in a knowing way.

"So, where is it?" asked Kosarev. "If the room isn't enchanted, that leaves only one option."

Harry took out the small quill he had been using as his receptacle and showed it to Professor Kosarev. The professor ran his wand over it a few times, mumbling several different incantations. The quill glowed briefly, and Harry saw Kosarev looked mildly annoyed before canceling the spell. "I hope you didn't pay too much for that, Mr. Potter. I doubt it will last more than a few days, a week at the most."

Calypso smirked. "Considering that he made it, I don't think he overpaid, sir."

Kosarev looked at Calypso and then turned back to Harry. "Is that true, Mr. Potter? Did you make this?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said proudly.

"Impressive. How long did it take you?" Kosarev asked as he began inspecting the quill with a much greater interest.

"A long time, sir. I can't count the number of objects I destroyed. That's why I eventually started using quills, they're cheap to replace."

"This is your first successful one?" Kosarev asked.

"Yes, sir, I actually only finished it yesterday. I bought a few working ones just in case I wasn't able to complete it."

"A wise decision. I wouldn't have believed it possible for anyone to create such an object at your age. I seriously doubt I'll be seeing anything more impressive than this from your class, Mr. Potter. The Space-Enhancement-Charm would have let you advance with a J, but I doubt anything will be able to top this. Come by my office later, and bring that quill with you. I'll show you a few ways to make the charms on it last longer. We'll be removing the charms currently placed on it, so make sure your room is back to its original size before you bring it. A truly impressive project, Mr. Potter," Kosarev said, gracing his student with a rare smile and leaving the room.

"I told you he would be impressed," Krum said, proud of his friend's achievement.

Kira looked a little annoyed. "How did you do it?"

"Practice," Harry said simply. "Viktor could tell you all the times I messed up making it."

"He set himself on fire… _twice_," Viktor immediately said.

Harry felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "It was just a figure of speech, Viktor."

"That one goblet he used turned acidic and melted," Calypso added.

"Do you remember that piece of parchment that exploded?" asked Viktor

Calypso laughed. "How could I forget? It gave him that paper cut he wouldn't stop whining about until you took him to Lady Shluga to have his hand healed. What about that key that just disappeared after he put the last charm on it. We were never able to find it, and nothing seemed to make it come back from wherever it went."

"Okay," Harry muttered, "you really don't have to retell _all_ of my failures."

Viktor and Calypso simply ignored him as they continued to talk about the numerous times he messed up while trying to make his receptacle. Shaking his head, Harry couldn't help but smile as he listened to his friends jokingly recall some of the more embarrassing mistakes he made over the last few months. It was nice to have friends.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Dragons and Dunderheads **

**Main Hall, Durmstrang, May 24** **th**

"You look horrible," Calypso commented as Harry collapsed into the seat next to her.

"I just presented my Dark Arts project."

"And?" Calypso asked curiously.

"It went alright until Grausam demanded that I demonstrate my spell chain in an actual duel. He pulled some random fifth year out of the hall and told him he would get bonus points on his exam if he beat me," Harry grumbled..

"At least you're still conscious, and you apparently don't think you're hurt enough to need Lady Shluga," Calypso said looking him over. "Obviously, the fifth year must not have been that good of a duelist."

"I think I took him by surprise with the spell chain," Harry said honestly. "I managed to get halfway through the chain before he just Summoned a desk from behind me. I didn't see it and it smashed into my back. He Stunned me, and that was it."

"I'm sure Professor Grausam was disappointed that you weren't more badly cursed," Calypso commented as a brown Hogwarts owl landed next to Harry and offered its leg, showing that it had a letter.

Harry sighed. He hadn't heard from his brother in a while. Since he had told Nathan to leave the Philosopher's Stone alone, his brother had only written him once to say he managed to pull off Viktor's Quidditch move and that he led a Bludger right into Oliver Wood during practice. The Gryffindor Quidditch captain had been so impressed by the move that he didn't realize he had a broken nose until one of the team's Chasers pointed it out.

_Harry, _

_First, let me say what happened wasn't my fault. You see, Hagrid had a dragon egg and was planning on raising it in his wooden hut. Ron wrote his older brother, who works on a dragon preserve in Romania, and Hermione and I had to sneak the dragon out of Hogwarts. We managed to get it out, but we were caught by Professor McGonagall leaving the North Tower.  
_

_Ron had been bitten by the dragon and was in the hospital wing when Draco Malfoy, of all people, borrowed his Potions book. Ron had the note from Charlie in the book, and it said when and where we were going to hand over the dragon. We were able to get the dragon out of the North Tower, but Draco went to McGonagall and managed to get us all in trouble. _

_Mum was furious about what happened because Professor Snape told her what Malfoy had claimed we had been doing. She and Mrs. Granger have apparently become friends, and Hermione and I both got letters, thankfully not Howlers, saying how dumb it was to try to get rid of the dragon. Hermione was seriously freaked out that her mother had found out. Did you know that the professors aren't required to send the parents of Muggle-borns notifications about when their children get detentions? Apparently it's a risk to the Statute of Secrecy for Hogwarts to constantly send owls into Muggle neighborhoods. They only send out notices if a Muggle-born student is seriously injured. _

_Now Hermione, Neville Longbottom, who was apparently trying to warn us about what Malfoy was going to do, Malfoy, and I all have detention for being up and out of bounds. Not to mention Professor McGonagall took 40 points EACH from all of us. Most of Gryffindor is treating us like we have the plague because we went from first to last the race for the House Cup. _

_By the way, Hermione says it's impossible for Durmstrang to be in Siberia because there is no way an owl would be able to deliver mail there. Owls need to hunt for their meals on longer deliveries and there wouldn't be enough food for an owl to survive a trip to Siberia. Funny, Harry. We'll see how much you like pranks over the summer._

_Nathan_

"Typical," Harry muttered, putting down the letter.

"What?" Calypso asked.

Harry just handed her the letter and let her read it.

"So your brother actually took it upon himself to get rid of a dragon for this Hagrid person? That's just asking for trouble. Had they been caught, they could have been arrested for the illegal transportation of a dragon." Calypso paused and re-read the last few lines of the letter. "And did he seriously believe Durmstrang was in Siberia?"

Harry sighed. "Just say it."

Calypso handed Harry back his letter. "Your brother is an idiot."

"I know. Believe me, I know," Harry said, shaking his head tiredly.

**ooo0000ooo**

**An Omnimous Goodbye**

**Durmstrang, May 30** **th**

With his trunk packed, his room returned to its normal size, and wearing his best pair of robes, Harry reflected on his first term at Durmstrang as he walked towards the main staircase. While there had certainly been some low points, Harry couldn't help but think they were worth it. For the first time ever, he had friends besides his brother. Viktor and Calypso were very different people, but Harry couldn't imagine this term without them. Harry briefly wondered if this was what Nathan felt like at Hogwarts with Ron and Hermione.

Harry noticed Calypso waiting by the staircase, and he couldn't help but smile at his friend.

"All packed?" she asked.

"Yes," Harry said, motioning to his trunk that was levitated behind him, "I can't believe the year is over."

"It is a little strange knowing that we won't be seeing each other until August," Calypso admitted, and Harry thought he heard a little bit of disappointment in her voice.

"True, but could you imagine me trying to explain having you over during the summer? Or trying to tell my parents that going to your house would be safe?" Harry asked.

Calypso laughed bitterly. "No. While it would be funny, I doubt your parents would appreciate the fact that you're friends with a dark and evil member of the Rosier family. They might force you to go back to Hogwarts."

Seeing that Calypso was actually upset by the situation, Harry couldn't help but reassure his friend. "Don't worry, I'll write often. I want to know everything you're going to be learning over the summer. I almost beat you in our last duel, and I can't have you getting too far ahead of me now."

"You? Almost beat me? Dream on, Potter. I was just going easy on you," Calypso replied haughtily.

"Then you had better be ready for next year," Harry said seriously. "I'm not just going to sit around and twiddle my thumbs over the summer."

"But what about the restriction of underage sorcery, Harry?" Calypso asked mockingly. "You can't practice spells over the summer, you're underage. You could get expelled."

"Git," Harry muttered, playfully shoving Calypso. After the Highmaster had warned all the students to not practice magic over the summer, Harry had commented that he didn't know what he was going to do for three months if he couldn't use magic. Calypso had promptly laughed at him and explained just how countries tracked underage magic. She had then mercilessly teased him for not knowing something that everyone else at Durmstrang already knew. Apparently, the Highmaster had to inform students of the restriction because it was an ICW decree that all schools do so, but Karkaroff didn't honestly expect anyone to abide by it.

"Well, I guess this is it," Harry said as he crossed the threshold of the Durmstrang wards.

"I guess so, have a good summer," Calypso said.

"You too. See you in August," Harry said before grabbing his trunk and activating his Portkey. A moment later he was gone.

Removing his invisibility cloak, Romulus Rosier appeared behind his daughter. "A very interesting young man. You're sure about him?"

Turning towards her father, Calypso shrugged. "No, not yet. He was only here for one term, and there is a lot I don't know about him. He did let some things slip about himself that I doubt even he realizes yet, but there is a lot about the Potter family that I don't know."

"Well it sounds like you have a summer project," Romulus said seriously. "It might be difficult finding out information on the Potters. Dumbledore protects them very closely."

"It will take some time," Calypso agreed.

"His scores are certainly impressive, and Rosemburg and Kosarev won't shut up about his potential," Romulus said more to himself than Calypso. "I think next year I shall pass judgment on him. Until then, you may continue your friendship with the boy."

"Father?" Calypso asked with wide eyes.

Romulus laughed at the fearful expression on his daughter's face. "Don't worry. I won't harm him, but I think it's about time I took a more vested interest in your education, Calypso. Igor has been complaining about Grausam's poor behavior of late."

"You... are going to teach?" Calypso asked, completely shocked.

"I certainly think I'm qualified, and Igor will not deny me the position if I ask for it. It will give me an opportunity to see exactly what the Potter boy is capable of."

Calypso nodded her head, knowing that the decision had already been made.

Next year was going to be very interesting.


	7. Summer At The Hollow

**Homecoming **

**Ministry of Magic, London, May 30** **th**

Harry landed with a thump at the international Portkey arrival area in the Ministry of Magic.

"Name?" A portly witch asked immediately.

"Harry Potter," he replied, still a little shaken form the trip.

The witch gave him a curious look before she checked her clipboard and nodded her head. "You're early. We weren't expecting you until noon."

"Is that a problem?"

"No," the witch said, "but we will have to charge you an extra three sickles for an early processing fee."

"Well my father was supposed to pay, is there a place I can make a floo call?"

"Of course, behind you and to the left," she replied. "When you're done, go through the double doors and pay at the counter."

Nodding his head, Harry quickly followed the woman's directions and found the floo. He briefly wondered why people weren't leaving through the floo instead of paying before he realized that they probably had been specially spelled so that they could just be used to make calls. "Potter household," he said after sticking his head into the nearest empty fireplace. "Hello? Mum? Dad? Is anyone there?"

A few moments passed before Harry saw his mother's head appear in the fireplace. "Harry? Are you back already? We weren't expecting you for another hour."

"I know, I left a little early. Can you or Dad come and pick me up?"

Lily smiled. "Of course, we'll be there in a few minutes. Where are you exactly?"

"International Portkey Arrivals."

"Alright, we'll see you soon. Love you."

"Love you too, Mum."

Harry stood up and brushed some soot of his robes. After a few minutes spent sitting on a nearby bench, Harry saw the double doors open, and his parents enter.

"Harry," Lily said, giving her son an enthusiastic hug, "how was the trip home?"

Harry grimaced. "Bloody horrible, I hate International Portkeys."

"Language, Harry," Lily chided halfheartedly. "Was it really that bad?"

"Yes. I was stuck spinning like a top for over five minutes. It's a good thing I didn't eat beforehand or else I would have lost my lunch somewhere over Central Europe."

"Well, it's good to have you home," James said, looking a little relieved.

Harry smiled wistfully. "I can't wait to actually _get_ home."

"Well lets give the Ministry its stupid tax and hurry back," James put forth.

After a very brief wait in line, James paid the three galleon tax for receiving a Portkey from Durmstrang, and the three Potters quickly floo'd back home. As soon as Harry was out of the floo grate, he pushed his trunk to the side and collapsed on the couch. "It's good to be home," he replied happily.

"Well I see you're already comfortable." Lily laughed. "Tell us all about your first term at Durmstrang."

"It was great!" Harry replied enthusiastically. "My Charms teacher pretty much assured me that I would be getting an M for my end of the year project."

"I still can't get over that scoring system," James said with a shake of his head.

"I like it," Harry said honestly.

"You say that now, but we'll see what you think about it when your grades come," James teased.

"I think I did alright," Harry said hesitantly. "I struggled in spell creation a little, but I know I passed in everything else."

Lily looked at her son in surprise. He'd never mentioned having any academic difficulties before. "What was so hard about spell creation?"

"Well it's just really complicated, and I had a lot of catching up to do," Harry explained. "First you have to figure out what you want your spell to do. Then you have to decide the type of magic that would best generate that effect whether it's a charm, curse, or transfiguration. After that, you need to try to create the wand movement and incantation. I had no idea how important the wand movement was for spells until I took that class. Did you know that a clockwise twirl is better for transfiguration, but a counter-clockwise twirl is used more in advanced charms?"

"No," James admitted, "I never realized that."

"So it was hard for you to catch up?" Lily asked.

"Very," Harry said seriously. "All that information about the effects different wand movements have were learned during the first term. When I got there, everyone already knew the basics."

Lily frowned slightly. "Didn't the instructor help you to catch up?"

"No," Harry said a little bitterly, "Professor Cherny spends all his time helping the upper years, and he said that he didn't have the time to re-teach the basics to a first year."

"Some teacher," Lily said angrily.

Harry nodded his head in agreement before saying, "He _is_ a good teacher during class, but he just doesn't have the time or patience to help struggling younger students."

"Still," Lilly said disapprovingly, "a professor should make time to help a struggling student, especially one who just transferred."

"I agree," James said.

"Well, I think I passed, so it's not that big of a deal," Harry said sheepishly.

"What did you do for your project?" Lily asked curiously.

"It wasn't all that great. You know how the _lumos_spell sends out a white light?" Harry asked. After his parents' nodded, he added, "Well my spell lets you choose the color of the light."

"Well that certainly sounds interesting, I wish we could see it," Lily said.

Harry raised his wand and muttered, "_Lumos Rojas_." The room was soon filled with a reasonably bright red light.

"Harry James Potter! Are you trying to get expelled?" Lily demanded.

"I'm not, though," Harry said with a huge smile. "The ministry won't know _I_ cast the spell."

Lily sagged into her chair as James snickered. "Who told you how they track underage magic?" he asked.

"A friend at school," Harry said cheerfully. "It made a lot of sense after I thought about it. I practiced all kinds of wand magic after I got my wand, but I never got a letter from the Ministry."

"When Nathan finds out, he's going to spend the summer pranking the entire house," muttered Lily.

Harry frowned slightly. His brother would do something like that, and the last thing he wanted was to worry about Nathan pranking him while he studied. Maybe he would just not to mention it to his brother for the time being. If Nathan saw him doing magic, he could just say that Durmstrang didn't have the same restrictions as Hogwarts. "What did you think of the spell?"

"It was very nice. Can you do any other colors?" Lily asked.

"Blue and violet," Harry replied.

"Well that's certainly impressive," Lily commented.

"How long did that take you to make?" James asked.

"Three months," Harry said with a shake of his head. "Like I said, it's a very hard to make sure everything works. If you mess up, there could be really bad results."

"Was your Charms teacher impressed with the Space-Enhancement Charm?" Lily asked.

"I honestly can't believe you were able to cast that as a first year," James said, sounding very proud.

Harry blushed slightly. "Well, he said if my project was just the Space-Enhancement Charm, I would have been in the running for the top mark. I sort of did something else as well though."

"Oh?" Lily asked. "What else did you do?"

"I ended up making a semi-permanent enchantment receptacle," Harry said sheepishly.

"What!" Lily exclaimed. "How?"

Harry winced slightly and rubbed the back of his head where he accidentally burnt a chunk of his hair off while working on one of his receptacles. "A lot of practice,"

"Harry, explain," Lily demanded. "You are far too young to be playing around with that kind of magic. You could have seriously hurt yourself!"

"Well," Harry said nervously, "I was able to get the Space-Enhancement Charm fairly easily, but I needed a way to stop a simple _finite_ from shrinking the room back to normal. I tried enchanting," Lily gasped, paled, and had to sit down on the couch, "but that failed rather spectacularly. So I had to tie the Space-Enhancement Charm to a semi-permanent enchantment receptacle. I bought some receptacles in case I couldn't make one, but I wanted to see if I could do it. It took me _forever_, but the day before my project was due, I was able to make a very basic one."

Lily grabbed her son's hands and forced him to look her in the eyes. "Harry, please tell me your professor was overseeing this project of yours."

"Of course he was," Harry lied.

"Thank Merlin," Lily said, relaxing a little. "Still, I can't believe you were able to make one. You're not even twelve!"

"Harry, I... that's incredible," James said in amazement. "You definitely inherited your mother's ability with charms."

"He's well beyond my ability, James. I couldn't have done that at his age," Lily replied. "I didn't learn how to make those until I was near the end of my fourth year, and that was with Professor Flitwick's help.

"Professor Kosarev was really impressed as well. He spent several hours showing me how to improve upon the receptacle I made. I think I might be able to make one last for a month or two now. I'm going to try to make one and expand my room," Harry said excitedly.

Lily looked sternly at her son. "Harry, please show me any receptacle you make before you decide to alter your room." Seeing that her son was about to protest, Lily added, "I don't doubt your ability to make them, Harry, but I don't want your room to suddenly decompress around you while you're sleeping."

"Alright," Harry agreed, seeing his mother's point.

"So, Harry, tell us about your friends," James said.

The bright smile that appeared on Harry's face made Lily and James realize that sending Harry to Durmstrang was probably the best thing they could have done for their son. "Well, Viktor was my first friend. He's a few years older than me, but he's really nice, and he's absolutely amazing at Quidditch. I wanted to invite him over for a little bit this summer, but he made it onto his countriy's Junior National team."

"Wow," said James, "he must be good. What country is he representing?"

"Bulgaria. He wants to play professionally, and I think he could do it. He practices every day Dad, literally. There was a blizzard going on outside, and he was running around the Quidditch pitch with a warming charm on him."

Lily shook her head and wondered why anyone would push themselves that hard at Quidditch. "Please don't tell your brother about that."

"Did I mention he dropped two classes after his first year so he could practice more?" Harry asked cheekily.

"Harry James Potter, I forbid you to tell your brother that piece of information," Lily said seriously. "Nathan already has it in his head that he's going to play for England someday. He doesn't need to know the lengths your friend is taking to practice Quidditch."

"I won't tell Nathan, Mum," Harry said. His mother was right; Nathan would try to drop a class to play Quidditch more, and from the look on his father's face, his dad had probably considered it when he was at Hogwarts.

"So who are your other friends besides Viktor?" Lily asked, clearly trying to move the discussion away from Harry's Quidditch-obsessed friend.

"Well, there's Calypso. She's the one who helped me with my Dark Arts project," Harry said as he tried to figure just what was safe to mention about his friend.

"Is she older as well?" Lily asked, slightly concerned that Harry's friends might not be near his age. She didn't want her son growing up faster than he had to, and having older friends would expose him to things he might not be ready for.

"No, she's a first year like me," Harry said, " but she's really smart and an amazing dueler. I haven't been able to beat her yet."

"Really?" Lily asked, surprised. "Even with all that you know from Charms and Transfiguration? I would have thought you would have been the top dueler in your class."

Harry was about to reply that he _was_ the best dueler in his class, until he realized that he really didn't want his parents to ask what Dark Arts class Calypso was in. "She's smart," he said instead. "She took the test to skip her second year of Charms and Transfiguration at the end of the year."

"Oh yes," said Lily, "I remember you wrote once telling me about that."

"Well she certainly sounds like a nice young lady," James said. "Who else do you hang out with?"

"Well, besides Viktor and Calypso, I guess Kira, but she's not really a _friend_." Harry resisted the urge to snort at that understatement. "She's Viktor's girlfriend and sometimes she comes around. She's alright, but I don't really like her that much. Viktor tells me she's really good at spell creation. When I was having problems in that class, he told me to talk to her, but I didn't. I wanted to see if I could do it on my own," Harry lied, not wanting to say that Kira had told him she had better things to do –"Like going to visit the Isle of Drear and sticking my head inside a Quadapod's mouth"–than help him after he asked her a question during breakfast.

"Well, I'm glad you've got some good friends, Harry," Lily said happily.

"Me too. I do have one question though," James said seriously.

Harry hoped he wasn't going to ask anything else about Calypso, but to his relief his father just asked, "Where is Durmstrang?"

Laughing, Harry said, "Siberia, Dad. Nathan figured that out ages ago."

**ooo0000ooo**

**Midnight Mayhem**

**Living Room, Godric's Hollow, June 5** **th **

This was it. Only two more spells and his receptacle would be finished. Harry meticulously began the next intricate wand movement, tapping his wand to the quill every so often, causing magical sparks to shoot off of the pulsating object. The amount of magic coming off the quill was palpable, and Harry felt oddly comforted being around so much of his own magic. After a perfect clockwise twirl, Harry pointed his wand at the quill and said, "Liy–"

"LILY, JAMES! ARE YOU THERE?"

"No," Harry practically screamed as his focus was distracted by Professor McGonagall's loud Scottish brogue coming from the floo. Frantically, Harry tried to salvage what work he had done, and he began trying to cancel the last spell.

This was why creating a receptacle was so difficult. If you messed up, even one step, it began a cascading reaction, which canceled out every spell on the object unless you could somehow undo the last spell you cast. Unfortunately, the further you are in finishing a receptacle, the faster the spells are undone, and they gain speed with each spell that is removed. Harry watched as spell after spell left the quill, accompanied by a bright flash of magic. The reactions eventually began unwinding so fast that the quill looked to be permanently glowing. A moment later, it erupted in flames as the collapsing magical reaction became too much for the object to handle.

Groaning in frustration, Harry stood up and walked over the floo. "Hello, Professor," he said somewhat coldly. Honestly, who would call at half-past midnight? The only reason he was still up was because he wanted to finish his project.

"Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked in surprise before recovering her composure. "Harry, I need you to get your parents immediately. A situation has arisen with your brother at Hogwarts."

"Is Nathan alright?" Harry asked, his anger at being interrupted vanishing.

"He's in the hospital wing, and Madam Pomfrey is doing everything that she can at the moment. Please, Harry, I need to speak with your parents," McGonagall said in deadly serious tone that allowed no arguments.

Harry quickly stood up and ran to his parents bedroom. After banging on the door for about a minute, his father came out looking less than pleased. "Harry, what in Merlin's name is it? It's past midnight!"

"Dad, Professor McGonagall is on the floo, she says something happened to Nathan at Hogwarts," Harry said worriedly.

James' face paled. He closed the door, and Harry could hear muffled voices coming from inside his parents' bedroom. Soon enough, his mother and father opened the door, both of them looked decidedly worried.

"Minerva's on the floo?" Lily asked, already heading down the stairs.

"Yes," Harry said.

Lily raced into the living room, giving only the slightest glance at the burnt spot on their mahogany table, before kneeling down, and sticking her head in the floo. After a few minutes, she took her head out and said, "Harry go to bed. Your father and I need to go to Hogwarts."

"What!" exclaimed Harry. "I want to make sure Nathan is alright."

"No!" Lily snapped. "Go to bed, and I'll ignore what you were doing down here tonight," she said, gesturing to the nasty looking black scorch mark on the table.

"But what about Nath–"

"Harry, go to bed. We'll tell you about it tomorrow," James said seriously.

"But–"

"Now!" Lily and James demanded.

"Fine," Harry said unhappily.

He had made it halfway up the stairs when he heard the sound of the floo activating twice, signaling that his parents had left for Hogwarts. It was going to be a long night, and there was no way he would be able to sleep wondering what happened to his brother. Sighing, Harry entered his room and took out another quill. If he wasn't going to be able to sleep, he might as well try to make a receptacle again, at least that might be able to take his mind off his brother for a little while.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Placing Blame**

**Hogwarts Hospital Wing, June 8** **th **

Three days! It had taken three days for Harry to get permission to visit Nathan in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. Three days of his parents trying to avoid telling him what happened to Nathan. Hearing his parents say "Your brother will be fine" and "Don't worry" did not stop him from worrying at all. The fact that they wouldn't tell him what had happened only made Harry worry more.

The reason Harry hadn't seen Nathan yet was because Dumbledore apparently needed to get the permission of the Board of Governors to let a Durmstrang student visit Hogwarts. According to his mother, Durmstrang had a nasty reputation of stealing the secrets of other magical academies during the late 1500s by sending younger students to 'visit' their relatives at other magical academies. Due to Durmstrang's less-than-stellar reputation, Hogwarts and many other schools responded by making it very difficult for Durmstrang students to enter the grounds.

Stepping through the floo in the traditional blood-red robes of Durmstrang, Harry appeared in the Hogwarts hospital wing.

"Right this way, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said immediately. Harry nodded his head in appreciation at the lack of small talk. Clearly someone understood that he just wanted to see his brother.

Madam Pomfrey led Harry to the far side of the infirmary where a single bed was closed off in curtains. All around the bed were chocolates, flowers, get well cards, and...a pair of toilet seats? Shaking his head, Harry ignored the bizarre get well gift and allowed Madam Pomfrey to guide him past the curtain to see his brother. Harry was shocked at how pale his brother looked as he lay immobile in the bed.

After a few minutes of staring at his unmoving brother, Harry wiped away a few stray tears and asked, "What happened?"

"Your brother was suffering from lacerations from an overzealous incarcerous spell as well as possessing a few painful bruises, cuts, and burns," Madam Pomfrey explained.

"Why would he need to be in the hospital for three days for burns and cuts?" Harry demanded. "Can't you regrow bones in a matter of hours? Merlin, it shouldn't take more than a few days to regrow and internal organ if you have the right potions on hand. What else happened to him? And why is he unconscious?"

Slightly startled by the young boy's knowledge of medicinal practices, Madam Pomfrey looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Your brother was hit with a dark curse. Fortunately the headmaster arrived in time to intervene, but your parents, the headmaster, and I were in agreement that it was best to give your brother a long term sleep potion so that he would not be in pain when he awoke."

Harry gave the matron a confused look. "Why couldn't you just give him a pain relief potion?"

Turning away from the young boy, Madam Pomfrey said, "I'm afraid I am not allowed to discuss any more of Mr. Potter's condition."

"Then tell me what happened?" Harry pressed angrily. "What caused this!"

"I'm not at liberty to say, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said, sounding somewhat apologetic. Seeing the anger on Harry's face increasing, Madam Pomfrey said, "While your parents and the Headmaster don't wish for any staff member to worry you, I will say that Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger might be able to give you an idea as to what happened to your brother. I understand that they were both with him that night. It's almost noon, so it would be safe to assume that they would be in the Great Hall having lunch right now."

Harry gave the matron a nod and turned to leave. Before he reached the curtain though, Madam Pomfrey said, "Mr. Potter, you didn't hear that from me, understood?"

Pausing, Harry turned to face Madam Pomfrey. "Hear what, Ma'am? I'm sorry if I didn't catch what you said, but I'm fairly hungry. I think I'll grab a quick bite for lunch."

After making it from the hospital wing to the Great Hall in record time, Harry entered the Great Hall and zeroed in on the Gryffindor table, looking for Ron and Hermione. He found them on the far side of the table, sitting close to the staff table. As Harry began to walk towards his brother's friends, he drew the attention of the Hogwarts population. As he passed the Slytherin table, he saw several students' eyes widen, and he definitely heard them mutter about Durmstrang.

As he passed the staff table, he saw Professor Flitwick look at him with a dejected expression on his face while Professor Snape seemed to be observing him carefully. Harry was just glad his parents, Professor McGonagall, and the headmaster were all in a meeting to discuss Nathan's health. Had they seen the way he was looking at Ron and Hermione, they would have dragged him out of the hall as quickly as possible.

"Weasley, Granger, explain now!" Harry snarled, causing most of the conversation around the Great Hall to stop immediately.

Hermione's head jerked up at the sound of his angry voice, and she seemed incredibly surprised to see him standing in front of her. Ron, on the other hand, simply turned around and looked at his Durmstrang robes in disgust.

Knowing that he didn't have very long before the headmaster or his parents showed up, Harry walked right into Ron's personal space and hissed, "What happened to my brother?" Harry's wand spat out angry looking yellow and violet sparks, and Ron suddenly looked decidedly uncomfortable.

"It was Quirrell," Hermione began rambling. "He tried to steal the Philosopher's Stone. Ron, Nathan, and I went to stop him. Ron was hurt by McGonagall's giant chess set, and there was only enough potion left for either Nathan or me to pass through an enchanted fire. Nathan told me to go back to help Ron, I-I..."

Harry felt himself stagger back a step, and he looked at Hermione with a mixture of shock and disbelief. Glancing up at the staff table, Harry confirmed that Quirrell was indeed missing, but it didn't make sense. Why would Quirrell, the closest thing he had to a friend at Hogwarts, try to kill his brother! There had to be more to the story. Doing his best to ignore what he had been told about Quirrell until he could talk to someone else, Harry turned to Granger and said, "I thought I told you to leave the stone alone! It was Professor Dumbledore's job to protect the stone, not a group of first years."

"Dumbledore was gone! We had to do something," Ron said loudly. "No one would listen to us when we told them the stone was in danger!"

"This is your fault, isn't it!" Harry snapped, momentarily losing control and shoving his wand under Ron's neck, causing the other Weasleys at the Gryffindor table to stand up and point there wands at him. Unconcerned, Harry growled out, "My brother and Granger have more common sense than to do something this monumentally stupid! You on the other hand don't have an intelligent bone in your body!"

"You tell him, Potter," Draco Malfoy shouted from over at the Slytherin table.

As the Slytherin table roared with laughter, Professor Flitwick stood up. "Mr. Potter, release Mr. Weasley at once!"

Reluctantly, Harry complied and Ron quickly ran around to the other side of the table to stand by Hermione.

"So those are your new friends? A bunch of stinking Slytherins? I bet you fit right in with all of them since you're learning the Dark Arts at Durmstrang!" Ron accused.

Lowering his voice, Harry whispered so that only Ron and Hermione could hear him. "I am learning the Dark Arts, Weasley. So you had better watch your mouth around me. Merlin knows you won't be able to stop me if I decided to curse you."

Harry couldn't help but appreciate watching Ron pale in terror. His enjoyment only lasted a moment, however, when he saw that Flitwick and Snape had left the staff table and were standing not a few feet away from him. From the expression on Flitwick's face, Harry's old Head of House had heard every word he had just said to Ron.

"He just threatened me!" Ron said frantically to the professors.

Before Flitwick could say anything, Professor Snape addressed Ron directly. "Mr. Potter no longer goes to school here, Weasley. What would you like for us to do? Take twenty points from Durmstrang?" As most of the Slytherins chuckled, Snape slowly came to stand next to Harry. "Perhaps it would be best if I escorted you out of the Great Hall, Mr. Potter. You seem to be disturbing lunch."

With one final hate-filled glare at Ron, Harry allowed Professor Snape to escort him out of the Great Hall. As he passed the Ravenclaw table, Harry couldn't help but notice the look of shock on all of his former peers' faces. They clearly didn't know what to make of him anymore, and Harry wanted to scream that they never bothered to get to know him in the first place.

"An interesting performance, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape said as soon as they cleared the doors of the Great Hall.

"I'm right that this is Weasley's fault," Harry said defensively. "Nathan didn't do dumb things before he met Ron."

"Perhaps," Snape conceded, "but have you ever considered that maybe your brother has always been such a dunderhead, and it was only your presence that stopped him from taking such idiotic actions?"

"No," Harry admitted.

Snape smirked. "I think you'll find that your brother has much more in common with Mr. Weasley than you wish to think."

"Nathan is nothing like Ron Weasley," Harry said angrily. "He's intelligent–"

"-lazy, obsessed with Quidditch, and a troublemaker," Snape finished.

"My brother is worth a hundred of Ron," Harry said strongly

"Of that I have no doubt. However, that is simply due to the fact that Weasley is that bad, not that your brother is in any way decent," Snape replied without any hesitation.

Not wanting to address Snape's claim, Harry couldn't help but ask, "Is it true? That Quirrell attacked Nathan?"

"Yes," Snape replied. "Your brother foolishly sought out a confrontation with Quirrell while he was attempting to steal the Philosopher's Stone."

"But why would Quirrell try to steal the stone?" Harry asked. That was the part he didn't understand. Quirrell was helping to protect the stone, why would he want to steal it?

Snape took a moment to consider his words before he said, "All the gold you could desire and eternal life is enough too tempt any man. The fact that Quirrell was aware of what the other protections guarding the stone were perhaps made it to tempting an opportunity to pass up. Your brother simply got in his way, and he was very fortunate Dumbledore returned when he did."

"What spell was it?" Harry asked. "Madam Pomfrey said Nathan was hit by a dark curse. What was it?"

"I had a chance to look at your spell chain, Mr. Potter, and I admit I'm rather intrigued by some of the spells you selected," Snape replied.

Scowling slightly at Snape's shameless topic change, Harry somewhat bitterly asked, "Why's that sir?"

"You started the chain as I expected, choosing simple hexes and basic elemental spells that flowed well together," Snape said.

"But?" Harry prodded.

"But then you began alternating between cutting and blasting spells in increasing levels of difficulty to close out the chain."

"So?" Harry asked. "Cutting spells typically end on a slashing motion and blasting spells tend to start with a twirl or twist. The momentum of the slash makes going into either motion very easy and it flows perfectly."

"I once knew someone who had a spell chain that was very similar to yours, Mr. Potter," Snape said slowly. "It was obviously much more impressive and filled with dueling-caliber spells, but they also ended on a series of cutting and blasting spells."

"I can't imagine it's all that rare," Harry pointed out, not understanding his old professor's point. "The spells do go together easily."

"No, that is not rare at all, Mr. Potter, but what is unusual is that you continued to increase the complexity of your curses as the chain drew to a close. Most people like to have a balanced chain so that they don't overexert themselves at any point. By increasing the difficulty of your spells, you allow yourself a smaller margin for error that many would find too risky while in a duel. In fact, I could count on one hand the number of people actually capable of maintaining such a tactic when it is applied to the highest level of dueling," Snape said as they arrived outside of the hospital wing.

"What are you trying to say, sir?" Harry asked, curious as to what his old professor's point was.

"Nothing really," Snape said as he stared intently at Harry. "I just found it a rather strange that you would choose such a method."

As Snape turned to leave, Harry had a horrible thought. Calypso had helped him make that chain. Did Snape somehow know he had help creating it? "Your friend?" Harry asked nervously. "The one who used a chain similar to mine. Who is he sir?"

Snape paused. "I never said it was a he, Mr. Potter, and I don't believe I mentioned that we were friend either."

"Oh," Harry said, not sure what to make of the Head of Slytherin House's final comment. His mother said that Professor Snape liked to talk between the lines, but if he was trying to tell Harry something, that was just down right cryptic. Shrugging, Harry walked into the hospital wing, and immediately saw his parents and Professor McGonagall waiting for him. Neither of them looked at all pleased.

"Mr. Potter! Explain why you took it upon yourself to threaten Mr. Weasley in the Great Hall?" McGonagall demanded a split second before his mother could.

Shaking his head, Harry cursed the day he and his brother met Ron Weasley.

**ooo0000ooo**

**We Lie Because We Love**

**Hogwarts Hospital Wing, June 8** **th **

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter."

With a muffled groan, Nathan slowly opened his eyes to see the Headmaster sitting on the edge of his bed with a bright smile on his face. All around him were assorted pieces of candy, get well cards, and even flowers. He abruptly noted that he was in the hospital wing. Slowly, the memory of what happened came back to him, and he immediately sat upright. "Sir, the stone! It was Professor Quirrell and...and You-Know-Who, sir!" Nathan said frantically.

"Relax, my boy, please, or else Poppy will have me thrown out," Dumbledore said soothingly. "Do not fear, Quirrell did not manage to get the stone from you. I arrived in time to prevent him from taking it. Though, when I saw the state you were in, I feared the worst."

"You were almost too late, sir, I couldn't have held Quirrell off for much longer," Nathan replied as the memory of Voldemort's face in the back of Quirrell's head crept into his mind.

"Oh my dear boy, no. I was not concerned for the stone, but for you. When I arrived you..." Dumbledore trailed off as a haunted looked spread across his face. "Well I feared the worst."

Several tears fell down Nathan's face and he hung his head. "I-I couldn't let him have the stone, sir. Not when it was _him_ trying to come back to life."

Dumbledore placed his hand on Nathan's shoulder, causing the boy to look up. "A true Gryffindor to your very core Nathan."

"Did you stop him, sir? Is You-Know-Who gone now?" Nathan asked hopefully.

"Call him Voldemort, Nathan," Dumbledore said strongly. "Fear of a name simply increases fear of the person. And, unfortunately, no. When I arrived, I dispatched Quirrell and Voldemort fled. Left with the options of chasing down a specter that I may or may not be able to harm or getting you medical aid, I made the only decision I could have lived with myself making, and I rushed you to the hospital wing. So, yes, while Voldemort is still alive, though, I hesitate to call him that, he is less than a shadow, incapable of affecting the physical plane of existence without possessing another being."

"Will he be able to return, sir?" Nathan asked hesitantly. "Couldn't he just try again?"

Dumbledore removed his glasses and looked deeply troubled. "There are ways, Nathan, yes, but you prevented him from succeeding this time, and should we continue to prevent him, Voldemort might never be able to return."

Trying not to think about Voldemort returning to power, Nathan asked, "What happened to the stone, sir?"

"After speaking with its rightful owner, it has been decided that the stone needs to be destroyed in order to keep Voldemort from ever attempting to gain its power ever again," Dumbledore said solemnly.

"But doesn't that mean your friend, Mr. Flamel, will die?" Nathan asked aghast.

"You know about Nicholas?" Dumbledore asked in surprise. "My, you did go about this properly, didn't you? Yes, Nathan, Nicholas and his wife will die, but while that might seem incomprehensible to one as young as you. For Nicholas and Perenelle, it is merely like going to sleep after a very long day. Now, enough talk about such grim topics. I must alert your parents that you have awakened. I'm sure that your brother will be very pleased to hear of your recovery."

"Harry knows about what happened?" Nathan asked, dreading the answer.

"Yes. I understand he was less than pleased to find out what happened to you. Your brother was here yesterday, and he had a rather loud confrontation with Mr. Weasley in the Great Hall. He seemed to be of the belief that it was somehow young Mr. Weasley's fault that you went after the stone. There was a bit of a confrontation, and I'm afraid I've had to temporarily ban Harry from Hogwarts. After all, I cannot have a student from another magical school threatening to curse one of my students."

Nathan's eyes widened. "Harry threatened to curse Ron?"

"Do not judge your brother to harshly, Nathan. He was, understandably, distressed at the time, and I confess, I played a small role part in furthering his ire. I foolishly sought to abate your brother's fears by telling Poppy to only inform him of the superficial nature of your injuries. The last thing I wanted to do was to tell Harry that you had been severely injured by a man possessed by Lord Voldemort. Unfortunately, in my haste to protect Harry form the truth, I overlooked something very important."

"What sir?" Nathan asked curiously.

"That your brother is an incredibly intelligent young man," Dumbledore replied. "Harry quickly called Poppy out for not telling him the whole truth, and when she revealed that she was unable to tell him much more information, he went about the castle looking for Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger. The story about what happened between you and Professor Quirrell has made its rounds among the student population, though the true nature of who was behind the deed is not. As you can tell by the number of get well tokens, it was not difficult for Harry to deduce what happened. Do not worry on it, Nathan. I'm sure it was simply out of fear for your condition that led your brother to such actions. Harry cares a great deal about you."

"He told me not to go after the stone," Nathan admitted.

"And yet, had you not, there is a chance Quirrell would have solved the mystery of the Mirror of Erised and Voldemort would have returned to power," Dumbledore said gravely.

"So I did the right thing?" Nathan asked hopefully.

"In life, Nathan, there are very few times when there is a definitive right or wrong," Dumbledore said wistfully. "All that we can truly control is whether we are good or evil. Your actions in regard to the stone were firmly on the side of good, and, therefore, I believe you did right, my boy. Your brother might not understand why you put yourself at such a risk, but someday he will realize that it is often harder to do what one considers right than to do what is easy."

Nathan nodded his head, pleased that Dumbledore believed he did the right thing. "Thank you, sir."

"You are welcome, my boy," Dumbledore said kindly before looking sadly at the boy in front of him. "I was going to wait to ask this of you when you parents arrived Nathan, but I suppose it would be best if I simply do so now."

"Sir?"

"Outside of a few trusted individuals, you, your parents, and I are the only people who know Voldemort is still alive, and, after speaking with your parents, we believe it would be in your brother's best interest to not know of Voldemort's role in this ordeal."

"What?" Nathan asked in shock. "Why?"

Dumbledore turned away from Nathan and gazed out of a nearby window. At first Nathan thought Dumbledore wasn't going to answer him, but, after a moment, Dumbledore quietly said, "There are few times when I have been utterly fooled in my life Nathan, but Voldemort succeeded in doing so this year. The fact that he was able to possess one of my teachers for most of the year..."

"It wasn't your fault sir," Nathan said adamantly, "Everyone thought he was dead, and we stopped him! He didn't get the stone."

"Yes Nathan, we did indeed stop him from achieving his goal, but Quirrell did a lot more than just plot to capture the stone." Dumbledore looked particularly pained as he turned back to Nathan. "Among my many foolish actions this year, I count not reaching out to your brother as among the most severe. While I felt it was my duty as a Headmaster to keep my distance from you and Harry this year, I should have recognized the problems your brother was having. Had I known or perhaps seen the level of magic he commanded, maybe it would have stopped Harry from going to Quirrell for help."

Nathan looked at Dumbledore in shock. "Sir," he said hesitantly, "what do you mean he went to Quirrell for help?"

"After I defeated Quirrell, I asked Professors Snape and McGonagall to search his quarters for anything that might reveal information about Voldemort to us. Inside of a journal, Severus found several entries relating to the personal tutoring he gave to Harry in the Fall. It seems after numerous professors refused to give advanced lessons to your brother, Quirrell stumbled upon Harry practicing by himself in an unused class room. While we are not certain of his motivations, Quirrell began periodically tutoring Harry in various fields of magic."

With a look of dread on his face, Nathan asked, "Do you mean Harry was being trained b-by Voldemort?"

"We don't know Nathan." Dumbledore said rubbing his temple tiredly. "It is possible that Voldemort only possessed Quirrell after the Christmas holiday for failing to capture the stone in the fall; however, I doubt we will ever be certain."

"Is that why Harry wanted to transfer?" Nathan suddenly asked hopefully. "Did Quirrell put a spell on him? Can he come back to Hogwarts?"

"No," Dumbledore said emphatically, causing Nathan's hopeful expression to falter, "I would have sensed any overt magical influences on your brother when we discussed the situation at Christmas, and your mother has already informed me that she could find no lingering passive magic that might have been used on him. Furthermore, according to your parents, Harry has been nothing but happy about his experience at Durmstrang. He has built several friendships and has expressed nothing but his enjoyment with the school."

With a confused look on his face, Nathan said, "I still don't understand why we shouldn't tell Harry the truth."

"Nathan," Dumbledore sighed, "the truth is a wonderful, yet dangerous thing. Your brother is already dealing with the fact that one of the few people he was close to at Hogwarts nearly killed you. Your parents and I agree that Harry does not need to know he was likely manipulated in some manner by Lord Voldemort. It would only serve to increase the guilt he already feels. So, I ask you again Nathan, please do not tell your brother about Voldemort.

"I still think Harry deserves to know, sir," Nathan said solemnly, "but I won't tell him."

"Thank you Nathan. Now, I had best alert your parents that you have awakened."

**ooo0000ooo**

**Homecoming Part Two**

**King's Cross, London, June 20** **th**

"Why does Hogwarts make its students stay at the school for an entire week after the exams are over?" Harry asked.

"It's a time to decompress and say goodbye to your friends," James explained.

"But they lose a week of summer vacation," Harry pointed out.

"Well they also don't release the students until they have the exam results for the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 6th years finished," Lily added.

Harry looked at his mother in disbelief. "So they force the students to stay an extra week just because they want to tell them how they did before summer vacation?"

"Well, I, for one, like it," Mr. Granger said. "I know Hermione would have been pacing the floor waiting for her exam results. This way she can actually relax a little."

"I suppose the waiting is a bit nerve racking," Harry admitted.

"You still don't have your scores? Haven't you been finished for almost a month now, Harry?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"Yes, but Durmstrang has more students than Hogwarts, and often the professors have a difficult time deciding who should be considered the top in each class." Harry explained.

"Your mother told us how your school's scoring system differed from Hogwarts. Which do you prefer?" Mr. Granger asked.

"Durmstrang, definitely," Harry said certainly. "The professors don't worry about keeping a struggling student afloat. If they can't keep up, they don't advance and slow the rest of the class down."

"That's rather cruel to the students who aren't as gifted," Mrs. Granger said disapprovingly.

"Then they shouldn't go to Durmstrang," Harry said sounding unconcerned. "Odds are they know what the system is like, and their parents chose to enroll them there. They could have easily sent their kids to Beuxbatons or one of the lesser known magical academies."

"I suppose when the students and parents know what they are getting into from the start, it is sort of hard to argue," Mr. Granger said as the Hogwarts express pulled up.

"Oh heavens, we aren't late, are we?" Mrs. Weasley asked bustling over with Mr. Weasley and Ginny.

"No, Molly, the train arrived just a moment ago," Lily said.

"Oh, thank Merlin. Arthur was tinkering in his tool shed again, and I didn't notice the time," Molly said, shaking her head in exasperation.

Mr. Weasley immediately walked over to Dan Granger. "Dan, it's good to see you again! Tell me, what is the purpose of a rubber duck?"

As Mr. Weasley began asking the Grangers various questions about his latest Muggle obsession, Harry saw the express doors open and several students start to exit. Turning to his father, Harry asked, "See him yet?"

"No, but that's not a surprise." James chuckled. "Knowing your brother, he's probably going to be the last one off the train."

The first of the Weasleys to arrive was Percy. The prefect looked disdainfully at Harry when he saw him, and Harry rolled his eyes at the over serious boy. The twins, Fred and George, arrived next. They both subtly attempted to jinx Harry's shoelaces to tie themselves together, but Harry caught on and easily reversed it. He made a note to curse the twins at some point in the future for trying to humiliate him in public.

Finally, Nathan, Hermione, and Ron got off the express along with Neville Longbottom, who looked like he was having a difficult time controlling his toad. Harry saw Neville splinter off and go towards an imposing woman wearing a large vulture hat while Ron, Hermione, and Nathan made their way over.

Harry was amused to see Ron glare at him when the boy saw him. Harry wanted nothing more than to mock the redhead, but his parents had strictly forbidden him from arguing with Ron if he wanted to greet his brother on the platform. Not that Harry would pick a fight surrounded by all of Ron's brothers, he might be at Durmstrang now, but he was still a Ravenclaw, and he certainly had better sense than to do something that stupid.

"Potter," Ron said icily.

Harry simply ignored the cold greeting. Ron Weasley was hardly worth responding to anyway. Instead he greeted his brother with a smile and said, "Well you're looking better than the last time I saw you."

Nathan looked uneasily between Ron and his brother for a moment. "Well, yeah, you know, Hospital Wing and all."

Harry could see how tense his brother was. Clearly, Ron had gotten to Nathan and told him all sorts of exaggerated stories about how Harry had threatened to kill him with Dark Magic or some such rubbish. He'd have to set the record straight with his brother when they got home. He wouldn't have Ron Weasley causing a rift between him and his brother.

"So, how was Siberia?" Nathan asked, letting a smile cross his face for the first time.

Harry smirked. "Cold, dreadfully cold."

"Oh, there is no way that you go to school in Siberia," Hermione said exasperatedly.

"How do you know?" Harry challenged.

"Because it's not possible," she argued right back.

"Would you have said magic was possible two years ago?" Harry asked curiously.

Hermione looked ready to explode with facts proving her point when her father patted her on the shoulder and said, "He's teasing you, dear. Trust me, let it go. Now say goodbye to your friends, we really have to be off."

Harry watched impassively as Hermione hugged both Ron and Nathan before emphatically making them promise to write her. Eventually, Mrs. Granger managed to pull the girl away after telling her that she and Lily had already spoken about getting together over the summer.

With the Grangers gone, Harry immediately asked, "Are we ready to go?"

"I think so," Lily said. "Nathan, say goodbye to Ron. We have to be off."

Soon enough, Harry saw his brother step away from Ron and make his way over towards the rest of his family. When he arrived, James offered them all the Portkey. Together, the Potters all grabbed a piece of the small bit of spare parchment. A moment later they were gone.

**ooo0000ooo**

**A Necessary Revelation**

**Living Room, Godric's Hollow, July 13** **th**

After nearly three weeks, Harry had decided to give up. There was no reason, other than sheer greed, that Harry could think of for Quirrell to attempt to steal the Philosopher's stone. Harry could even understand why Quirrell would succumb to the temptation. The thought of eternal life and all the money you could ever desire was incredibly desirable, even to an eleven year old. No, if Quirrell was just going to steal the Philosopher's Stone, Harry could, and would, have understood. But Harry would never understand why Quirrell would want to kill Nathan. The only possible conclusion Harry had drawn is that Quirrell had been surprised by Nathan, and had assumed it was a professor who was about to catch him. Why else would he send a dark curse at his brother when a memory charm would work just as well to cover his escape.

Harry would always appreciate all that his former professor had done for him, but he would never be able to forgive the man for trying to kill his brother. Since it was now near impossible for Harry to think about Quirrell without at least a dozen conflicting emotions, he did the only thing he could; he vowed not to think about the man. As far as Harry was concerned, nothing important happened during his first term at Hogwarts. His education had begun at Durmstrang, Hogwarts was irrelevant.

Just as Harry thought of Durmstrang, a magnificent great horned owl landed outside Harry's window, displaying a letter with the Durmstrang crest. Harry quickly opened his window, and the owl fluttered inside. Once the letter was removed, the owl turned and flew back outside.

Harry hesitated before taking a deep breath and opening the letter.

_Dear Mr. Potter, _

_Congratulations, your academic scores for your first year have been judged, and you will be allowed to continue your education at the Durmstrang Institute of Magic. _

_Please note that classes begin on the 26_ _th_ _ of August. This letter will function as a Portkey to take you to Durmstrang; however, it will only be active between the 20_ _th_ _ to the 25_ _th_ _ of August. Should these dates prove problematic for you, please contact us no later than the 31_ _st_ _ of July. Activation word is _ _'Minsk.' _

_Sincerely, _

_Demetri Überzeug_

_Assistant to the Highmaster_

Harry quickly flipped to the next page of the letter and glanced at his scores. With a whoop of excitement, Harry raced out of his room and went downstairs. Spotting his mother reading a potions magazine on the couch, Harry excitedly said, "Mum, my grades from Durmstrang arrived!"

Lily looked up and put her magazine to the side. "Oh, good. Let me see how you did Harry."

Harry immediately handed over his score card.

_Charms: _ _ **M** _ _  
Dark Arts: _ _ **J** _

_Herbology _ _ **J** _

_History of Magic: _ _ **J** _

_Potions: _ _ **J** _

_Spell Creation: _ _ **J** _

_Transfiguration: _ _ **J** _

_Mr. Potter you have passed all of your classes, and you have been cleared to take Fourth Year Charms and Transfiguration, Third Year Dark Arts, Herbology, History of Magic, and Potions, and Second Year Spell Creation. _

"Harry, why does this say you're going to be going into your third year Dark Arts class?" Lily asked cautiously.

"Oh, um, well, that's because I am," Harry admitted. "I tested out of second year Dark Arts."

Lily looked at her son, concern evident in her eyes. "I think you need to get your father, Harry. He's outside playing Quidditch with Nathan and your uncle Sirius."

"Mum, it's not that big of a deal, really," Harry said, trying to placate his mother.

"Harry, go get your father. We need to discuss this," Lily said seriously.

With a sigh, Harry left the living room, and went outside where three small Quidditch hoops were in place. He saw his uncle Sirius playing keeper as his father and Nathan took shots on him with the Quaffle.

"Dad, Mum sent me out here to get you!" Harry called out to his father, who quickly flew down and dismounted his broomstick.

"Did she say what it was about?" asked James.

"Yes," Harry said uncomfortably.

James grinned slightly. "Well, are you going to tell me before we go inside?"

"It's about my grades from Durmstrang," Harry said, trying to be as vague as possible. It had taken a while for Harry to convince Nathan that Ron had exaggerated the threat he made in the Great Hall, and Harry really didn't need Nathan overhearing that he was actually jumping a year in the Dark Arts.

Entering the house, Harry led his father into the living room where his mother was waiting.

"What's this about, Lily?" James asked curiously. "Harry said it had something to do with his grades?"

"Read that," Lily said handing him Harry's scorecard.

James scanned the document quickly and smiled. "Congratulations, Harry, this is a tremendous scorecard. First in your class in third year Charms!"

"James, it's not Harry's scores I'm concerned about. Read what classes he is eligible to take next year." Lily said pointing at the bottom of the page.

Doing as his wife instructed, James made it to the second line before he asked, "Third year Dark Arts? Why aren't you going to be in your second year?"

"I tested out of it," Harry answered.

James looked initially perplexed at the idea of his son _wanting_ to jump a year in the Dark Arts before a dark and slightly nervous look crossed his face. He turned to look at Lily, who nodded her head slightly, showing that she feared the same thing as her husband.

When Lily and James were first told that Harry was receiving personal, private, tutoring from the man possibly possessed by Lord Voldemort, they had promptly panicked. It had taken a series of powerful calming charms from Dumbledore to get the two concerned parents to calm down, and, fortunately, between Dumbledore, Lily, and James, they were able to discern that Quirrell had not cast any lasting or passive magic on Harry. Still, Harry showing a sudden interest in dark magic was something that set off alarm bells for both Lily and James. Regardless of Dumbledore's assurances that Harry had not shown any signs of mental manipulation by Voldemort or Quirrell, the thought of the dark lord implanting a subtle command into their son with mind magic terrified them.

Hesitantly, James turned to his son and asked, "Harry, be honest, why did you want to skip a year in the dark arts?"

"How would you feel if some random first year suddenly showed up halfway through the year and became one of the best students in third year Charms and Transfiguration?" Harry asked

"I'd probably be a little jealous," James said slowly. "Are you saying that some of the older kids didn't treat you well?"

"A few cornered me after a Transfiguration class once," Harry admitted, "but Viktor showed up and they left me alone."

"What do you mean they _cornered_ you?" Lily demanded, suddenly nervous for her son's safety at Durmstrang.

Shuffling uncomfortably Harry said, "They were upset that Professor Rosemburg seemed to favor me. If Viktor hadn't shown up when he did, they probably would have cursed me."

James scowled. "Why didn't you mention this before?"

"What would you and Mum have done if I told you, Dad? You barely let me go to Durmstrang at all. If I had written a few weeks into the school year that some older students were threatening me, you would have put me back into Hogwarts," Harry argued.

"Harry, we want to know what is happening to you. You could have been seriously hurt. Did these boys threaten you again?" Lily asked fearfully.

"Who threatened you?" Nathan asked as he and Sirius entered the living room looking concerned.

"Just some older students at Durmstrang," Harry said hesitantly.

"What! Why?" Nathan asked immediately.

"They didn't think that a first year should make a bunch of second and third years look bad in class," Harry said honestly.

"So they cursed you!" Sirius said angrily. "I hope you got them back."

"They didn't curse me. My friend showed up and stopped them before they could," Harry explained. "Still, I knew that I got lucky and that Viktor wouldn't always be around to help me. If the older kids in the class really wanted to curse me, they would have eventually been able to."

"So that's why you started learning more curses? To defend yourself?" James asked, not liking what his son had been forced to do.

Harry nodded. "Calypso asked me to help her test out of second year Charms and Transfiguration, and I asked her to help me skip second year Dark Arts. I didn't want to get cornered by a bunch of older students and not be able to defend myself."

"So...you must have learned a lot of dark spells to skip an entire year," Nathan said hesitantly.

"Merlin! Durmstrang isn't nearly as bad as everyone says it is," Harry ranted. "My first year Dark Arts class was very similar to Hogwarts, except that some students were chosen to duel at the end of every class. It's not like the professors are trying to turn us all into a bunch of miniature Death Eaters or future Dark Lords."

"Harry, typically reputations as well established as Durmstrang's have a legitimate reason behind it," Lily pointed out. "Your first few years might not include a lot about the Dark Arts, but what about as you advance? The class is called the Dark Arts, Harry, not Defense Against the Dark Arts. Even you must admit that _eventually_ they will likely start teaching you some questionable magic. Your father and I abhor the Dark Arts, and I don't like the thought of you pushing yourself towards learning them."

"So, I should just let myself get cursed?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"Harry, don't put words in my mouth," Lily said sternly. "You could have simply read ahead and learned some spells to defend yourself. You didn't have to test out of your second year class."

"But that wouldn't help me," Harry argued.

"Why not?" asked Sirius.

"I needed to let the older kids know that I'm not someone they can just push around or contemplate cursing on a whim," Harry said stubbornly.

Lily looked skeptical. "Harry, I don't think a fifth year is going to care all that much about whether you're in your second or third year class. They would still know far more magic than you."

"Well, you're right, Mum," Harry admitted, "but the only older kids I needed to worry about are the second, third, and fourth years. There were a few fifth years who didn't like me, but most the fifth, sixth, and seventh year students don't even bother to notice the younger students. Calypso says they are typically too busy working on long-term projects or concerned about other older students to be bothered with a first, second, or third year. So you see, skipping a year in the Dark Arts, actually helps me sends a message to the second, third, and fourth years that I'm not someone that they should mess with."

"Harry are you saying you skipped a year just to intimidate the other students at Durmstrang?" James asked disapprovingly.

"Well, as soon as they heard what I was planning on doing, I wasn't bothered again." Harry said, defending his actions.

"Did you really feel that was necessary, Harry?" Lily asked. "Were you that concerned about the kids in your class trying to hurt you?"

Harry knew that he had to give a good response, but it wasn't like he could say, 'Oh yeah, Mum, Dad did I forget to mention the day I spent in the hospital wing recovering from a Bone Breaking curse?' Instead he said, "I wasn't that worried about them, but it was still something I thought about, and I didn't want to worry _at all_ about the older kids cursing me. I just wanted to have fun with my friends and learn magic, Mum."

"Well, I think you did the right thing," Sirius said.

"What?" James and Lily asked in surprised.

"Oh come on, James. Imagine you are Harry, and you're in a class filled with a bunch of jealous berks who are envious of your talent. If Harry had just learned spells to defend himself on his own, they would have tried to curse him again, and Harry would have taken them off-guard with some advanced spells. That would have just made them madder, and the next time they attacked him, they would have been ready. By making it known that he was skipping a year in the Dark Arts, Harry made sure everyone knew that attacking him would be a risk. So instead of all the older kids being surprised and mad that they were beat by a first year, Harry made them all wary to attack him in the first place. When you think about it, Harry did what was necessary to avoid a fight," Sirius explained.

James and Lily looked at each other, both their faces showing genuine surprise. "Sirius, that was insightful… are you feeling alright?" James teased.

"I suppose when you put it that way, Sirius, it is hard to argue," Lily admitted. "I just don't like to see you moving too far ahead in the Dark Arts, Harry."

"I understand. I'm not going to try to move ahead in that class anymore," Harry said honestly.

Lily and James shared a look with one another before nodding their heads in acceptance, both desperately hoping their son was being honest with them.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Proud Parents and The Unexpected Gift**

**Living Room, Godric's Hollow, July 31** **st**

"So if you don't have a good final project, you can fail a class, and they don't even give you the opportunity to retake it?" Hermione asked, aghast.

"Sometimes you're given the opportunity to retake a class, but it's very rare," Harry responded. It was his and Nathan's birthday, and while the Potters, Remus, and Sirius had a private party for just the family earlier in the day, the Grangers and the Weasleys had been invited for dinner that evening. Nathan was out showing the small Quidditch pitch behind the house to Ron, and Hermione had spent the last twenty minutes grilling Harry about the differences between Hogwarts and Durmstrang.

"And why don't you take Astronomy?" Hermione asked.

"It's an elective you can choose to take at the start of your third year," said Harry, "but Spell Creation is seen as a much more important class at Durmstrang. I personally agree. While Astronomy is useful for Potions and Herbology, Spell Creation incorporates aspects of Charms, Defense, and Transfiguration."

"Learning how to create your own spells does sound fascinating," Hermione said wistfully. "Do you think I could borrow your book? You'll be getting a new one for next year, right?"

"Sorry, I'm going to hold onto it, Hermione. A friend of mine told me that the book for next year assumes you remember a lot from the first year book, so it doesn't repeat a lot of things. I was late entering the class so I still need to practice memorizing a lot of the reactions and effects different wand movements have on spells. Maybe next year I'll be able to let you borrow it."

Hermione looked annoyed, but she quickly recovered and said, "Your Mother told mine that you managed to create some really impressive object for your Charms class. What was it?"

"I could tell you what it is, or I could show you what it does," Harry said, a grin appearing on his face.

"Show me," Hermione replied immediately.

"Lets get your parents. I think my mum said your parents wanted to see it as well," Harry commented as he and Hermione walked over to where the adults were talking.

"Mum," Hermione said quickly, "Harry is going to show me the project he did to earn him the top spot in Charms at Durmstrang. He said you might want to see it as well?"

"Oh, yes," Mrs. Granger said. "Your mother was very excited when she told me about your project Harry, but I admit I couldn't quite understand the concepts she was talking about."

"What is it you're going to be showing them Harry?" Mrs. Weasley asked curiously.

Harry smirked. "I don't want to ruin the surprise for Hermione."

Surprisingly, Harry didn't mind talking to Hermione. She was smart, and, unlike Ron, she didn't accuse him of being a dark wizard just for going to Durmstrang. She had asked a few questions about the difference between his Dark Arts class and Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts class, but after that she had simply let the issue slide and asked other questions about his new school.

"Oh, let me get your mother, Harry. I know she'll want to brag about how brilliant her son is. I know Dan and I enjoy telling everyone how Hermione finished first in her year at Hogwarts," Mrs. Granger said, causing Hermione to blush.

"Do your parents really tell their friends about Hogwarts?" Harry asked in alarm.

"What? Oh no, don't worry, they don't actually say Hogwarts." Hermione laughed slightly at the thought of her parents telling their friends about their daughter the witch. "Mum and Dad tell everyone I go to an exclusive boarding school for the gifted in Scotland and that because some of the students are the children of diplomats they can't discus much about it. Apparently, that is what all Muggles are supposed to say when anyone asks about Hogwarts."

"Harry, I hear you're going to be showing the Grangers your room," Lily said with a smile.

"Your room?" asked Hermione curiously.

"Just wait until you see it," James said joining the group and standing next to his wife, "I couldn't believe he was able to do it."

"What did he do, James?" Arthur asked.

"Why don't we let Harry show everyone," Lily said proudly.

Doing his best to hide his blush, Harry led everyone upstairs and stopped outside his room. Opening the door, Harry walked inside and was quickly followed by Hermione who looked somewhat surprised. "This is a lot bigger than Nathan's room," she said, sounding somewhat disapprovingly at a perceived favoritism for Harry.

Lily smiled proudly. "It didn't use to be. Harry and Nathan's rooms were the exact same size at one time."

"What do you mean?" Mr. Granger asked.

"Harry used a Space-Enhancement Charm on all the walls to make his room larger," James explained.

Molly's eyes widened in surprise. "You managed a Space-Enhancement Charm as a first year?"

"I'm entering fourth year Charms this next term at Durmstrang," Harry said a little cockily.

"Fourth year? But you're only twelve!" Molly said in shock. "Lily, James, how is that possible? He should be a second year like his brother, Ron, and Hermione."

"One of the reasons Harry wanted to go to Durmstrang, Molly, was because they allow students to move up in year levels if they can handle the material. Harry took a test before starting Durmstrang and they placed him in third year Charms and Transfiguration last year," Lily explained, sending a proud smile at her son.

"You're really going into your fourth year for Charms and Transfiguration?" Hermione asked in amazement. "Why didn't Nathan tell me that! I bet you know a lot of advanced material. How did you cast the Space-Enhancing Charm? Is it difficult? Is there a good book that explains it?"

"Yes, I'm really entering my fourth year for Charms and Transfiguration. I don't know why Nathan didn't mention it. Yes, I know a lot of advanced Charms. No, the Space-Enhancement Charm is not difficult. And yes, I know a very good book that describes it, but it's written in German," Harry replied, answering each of Hermione's questions.

"German? They don't have books in English at Durmstrang?" Hermione asked.

"No, all the classes are taught in German, and students are all required to speak German at all times," Harry explained.

"So you speak German?" Hermione asked. "Was it hard to learn?"

"_Ja_,"Harry replied cheekily.

"Harry, show the Grangers and the Weasleys what got you the top spot in Charms," James said.

Hermione looked confused. "It wasn't the Space-Enhancement Charm?"

"No, the Professor said I would have been one of the top students and certainly been in the running for the top spot if that's all I did, but I did something else that guaranteed me the number one spot." Harry answered as he walked over to small brown dresser that was next to his bed. Opening the top drawer, Harry carefully removed a quill.

"This," Harry said proudly, "is what earned me the top spot in Charms."

"A quill?" asked Mr. Granger.

"It's a semi-permanent enchantment receptacle," Lily said, beaming at her son. "He made it."

"Impossible," Mrs. Weasley said immediately.

"I assure you, Molly," James said with an air of authority, "Harry made it."

"What does it do?" Hermione asked, looking at the quill very intently.

"What do you think would happen if you charmed a room to expand and then someone came in and cast a _finite_ at the walls, Hermione?" Lily asked.

"They would go back to normal," Hermione replied.

"Exactly. There are two ways to stop a spell like _finite_ from causing the room to shrink back to normal," Lily lectured. "You can enchant the room and make it permanently larger, or you tie the spell into an object, and the canceling spell would have to be directed at the object to return the walls back to a normal size."

"_Finite_," James said, pointing his wand at the wall.

When the room didn't immediately start shrinking, Hermione now realized just what the purpose of the quill was. "So that quill is what is stopping the room from shrinking around us? And you made that?"

"You've just turned twelve, Harry," Arthur said in astonishment, "how in Merlin's name did you manage to make it?"

"Is it very difficult?" Mr. Granger asked.

"I had to make one for the practical portion on my Charms O.W.L. examination," Arthur said bluntly, causing Hermione gasp.

"You cast a O.W.L. level spell as a first year," Hermione said in amazement.

Harry could only shrug his shoulders and grin while the Weasleys and Hermione appeared to be in awe at his ability.

"It wasn't easy," Harry said, "and I messed up a lot. My friends could give you a very impressive list of the different ways I managed to screw up."

"Can you show me how to make one? Well, I know you can't show me because of the underage restriction, but surely you have a book on it? Or is it written in German as well?" Hermione asked growing more and more dejected as she asked more questions.

Before Harry could answer any of Hermione's questions, Nathan entered the room. "Hermione, you really shouldn't be in Harry's roo– er, Harry why is everyone in your room?" Nathan asked, looking at all the adults that were standing around.

"Nathan Potter, why didn't you tell me your brother had already passed his third year in Charms and Transfiguration?" Hermione demanded.

"It didn't exactly come up," Nathan replied, suddenly realizing just how much trouble he was probably in with Hermione.

"Leave Nathan alone, Hermione, it is his birthday after all," Mrs. Granger said trying to quickly calm her daughter. "I'm sure you can make him suffer for not telling you another time."

Hermione sent a glare at Nathan that promised lots of letters and questions before saying, "Where's Ron?"

Relieved that Hermione was agreeing to put off his eventual scolding, Nathan said, "Downstairs eating another slice of cake."

"I swear, all that boy thinks about is food and Quidditch," Hermione huffed.

Harry was about to agree when a midnight black eagle owl flew in from his open window, landed on a chair, and lifted its leg, showing it held a letter and a small wrapped package.

"Mr. Popular," Lily teased as another owl entered the room, this one carrying a slightly larger package with it.

"It would certainly seem so," James said. "A little young to have so many admirers, aren't you, Harry?"

Ignoring his father's attempt to embarrass him, Harry quickly went to the two owls and removed what he assumed were birthday presents.

Opening the letter from the first owl, Harry immediately recognized the sharp, precise, penmanship of Calypso.

_Harry, _

_Happy Birthday! I ho_ _pe it's bee_ _n a wonderful day for you so far. _

_Just so you know, I'm going to be in England for most of August. Father has sent me to visit my cousin, and I'm supposed to be taught how to act like a proper witch by my aunt. I doubt we'll be able to see each other before we go back to Durmstrang, but at least our correspondence won't take so long now. _

_For your birthday present, I'm sending you a complete copy of the spells that my father had me practice last summer and this summer. Hopefully it'll help you get ready for your Dark Arts class. The notebook is written in English, so unless you want to have another 'the dark arts aren't evil' conversation with your parents, I'd keep the book away from them. _

_Hope to hear back from you soon and, again, happy birthday,_

_Calypso_

Harry put the letter down, took the small package, and unwrapped it. Sure enough, there was a small leather bound notebook inside.

"Whatcha get?" Nathan asked peering over his brother's shoulder.

"Just a book from a friend of mine," Harry commented nonchalantly.

"What kind of book?" Hermione asked interestedly.

"The kind that's written in German," Harry lied.

"Surely there are charms to translate a book into English," Hermione demanded.

"There are, Hermione, but they just aren't that reliable," Lily said in sympathy, "and you really don't want an incantation or wand movement to be translated wrong. The results could be very bad for the caster if it's translated improperly. I'm sure someone could create a better translation charm, but there is little demand for it since the language charm makes learning a language very easy for wizards."

"I thought you said learning German was hard," Hermione accused Harry, who was trying to relieve the other owl of its package.

"Hermione, the language charm requires you to be almost completely immersed in the language for it to work properly," Lily explained. "If it wasn't for Headmaster Dumbledore speaking to Harry in German, he would have had to go to Durmstrang without knowing a word of it."

"So I can only learn German if I can find someone who already speaks German?" Hermione asked, disappointed.

"You could always learn the hard way, without the language charm," Lily said with a smile.

"So who's this one from?" Nathan asked picking up the other parcel.

"I don't know," Harry admitted. He had already gotten an owl from Viktor earlier in the day, and he seriously doubted Kira would be sending him a birthday present. So he honestly didn't know who this present was from.

"Well, open the card and find out," Nathan said.

_Mr. Potter, _

_While I am pleased that you will be entering my fourth year Transfiguration class this coming year, I admit that I am slightly disappointed that you did not receive the top mark for third year Transfiguration. _

_After _ _hearing_ _ from Professor Kosarev what you had managed in Charms, I was, obviously, looking forward to seeing something equally as spectacular from you in Transfiguration. I was therefore disappointed in not seeing you push the limits of what I had thought possible from a boy your age in my field._

_Harry, I don't need to tell you that you have a gift for Transfiguration. I have never seen a student your age grasp the theory and the practical application behind Transfigu_ _ration as readily as yo_ _u do, and I want to see you push the beyond the boundaries of what I believed possible from a child your age in Transfiguration. _

_Should you ever wish to discuss any aspect of Transfiguration with me, I will endeavor to make myself available to you this year. In the mean time, please accept this birthday present as a token of what I wish for you to reach for in your time at Durmstrang. _

_Professor Rosemburg_

Confused, Harry unwrapped his Professor's present and looked at the book he had been given. There was no title, but the cover showed a red-haired wizard who slowly changed into a fox and then changed back again. Intrigued, Harry opened the book.

As he read the chapter list, Harry couldn't stop a gigantic smile from appearing on his face. If Professor Rosemburg wanted to inspire him, Harry had to agree that a book explaining advanced Human Transfiguration and the Animagus Transformation was certainly the way to do it!

"What's got you so happy?" James asked.

"My professor sent me a book on advanced Transfiguration," Harry said, already excited at the prospect of possibly becoming an Animagus like his father. He knew his mother had warned him about not trying it on his own, but he had a book explaining how to do it, _and_ a professor who was willing to help him. Maybe he'd ask Calypso if she wanted to try it as well, that way he wouldn't technically be trying the transformation on his own. "He says he was disappointed that I wasn't the number one student for Transfiguration, and that he'll make himself available to me if I want to talk about anything."

"Well that's nice of him," James commented, looking at the book Harry had been sent. He flipped open the cover, but seeing that it was all written in German, he quickly closed it, taking his son's word that it was just a book on Transfiguration.

**ooo0000ooo**

**The Uninvited Visitor**

**Nathan's Room, Godric's ** **Hollow** **, Aug 15** **th**

"You know, Hermione has been bugging me to ask you about spell creation," Nathan commented casually.

"No surprise there." Harry laughed. "Is she still mad at you for not telling her about how I managed to jump ahead in Charms and Transfiguration?"

"No, I think she's determined to catch up to you though. She keeps sending letters asking me what you did to get so far ahead," Nathan said grinning slightly.

Harry noticed his brother's grin and asked, "What's so funny?"

"I think Hermione finally realized that she wouldn't have been the number one student in our year if you had stayed at Hogwarts," Nathan replied.

"I was surprised she was first in your year honestly," Harry admitted. "It's almost always a pureblood or half-blood who had been tutored in magic already."

"That's not true," Nathan argued. "Mum was top in her year all throughout Hogwarts."

"Mum wasn't a normal Muggle-born," Harry reminded his brother. "She and Professor Snape practiced spells and potions way before she got her admission letter to Hogwarts."

"Don't remind me," Nathan said with a disgusted look on his face. "I don't know how Mum can stand working with that greas–"

_PO_ _P_ _. _

Harry and Nathan both immediately turned their heads to the side and saw a very unfamiliar house elf nervously rocking back and forth on its heels.

"Um, hello," Harry said tentatively. "Who are you?"

"Is you the great Nathan Potter?" the elf asked with wide eyes.

"I'm Nathan. That's my brother Harry," Nathan said, rolling his eyes at being called the _great_ Nathan Potter. "Who are you, and why did Uncle Sirius send you?"

"Nathan Potter asks who I is?" the house elf said in awe. "You is just as kind and courteous as Dobby thought, sir."

"Obviously," Harry said, slightly annoyed at the groveling elf, "we need to know what your name is in order to ask you something. I guess we could just call you 'elf,' but that's sort of redundant. Now, Dobby, why did Uncle Sirius send you?"

"Dobby does not know Sirius, brother of the great Nathan Potter. Dobby has come to warn the great Nathan Potter," Dobby said glancing from side to side nervously.

"Wait," Nathan said urgently, "if uncle Sirius didn't give you the secret, how did you get here? You Apparated-that should have been impossible!"

"Dobby thought hard and he popped to Nathan Potter, just like Dobby pops everywhere," Dobby said, appearing confused.

"So, the wards didn't affect you at all?" Harry asked, alarmed.

Dobby simply shook his head, causing his large bat-like ears to flop around his head.

"What do you want?" Harry demanded, drawing his wand and pointing it at the elf. He needed to tell his parents about that little flaw in the Fidelius as soon as possible.

Looking very uncomfortable at having a wand pointed at him, Dobby quickly said, "Dobby is here to warn Nathan Potter. You must not go back to Hogwarts. Bad things is happening there this year."

"What? Don't go back to Hogwarts? Absolutely not!" Nathan exclaimed.

"But you mustn't, bad things is happening there. Nathan Potter must be safe!" Dobby exclaimed.

"What kind of bad things?" Harry asked lowering his wand slightly.

"Dobby cannot say," the elf said miserably. "Dobby will already have to punish himself very badly when he goes home for warning Nathan Potter."

"So your family doesn't know you're here?" Harry pressed.

Looking absolutely terrified at the thought of his family knowing what he was doing Dobby squeaked out, "No."

"Does this have anything to do with Voldemort?" Nathan asked, causing Dobby to gasp.

"You actually said You-Know-Who's name," Harry said, slightly surprised.

"The Headmaster said I should," Nathan said strongly.

"O-okay," Harry said hesitantly.

"So Dobby, does this have anything to do with Voldemort?" Nathan asked again.

Looking absolutely terrified at hearing the Dark Lord's name, Dobby took a moment to think before he shook his head negatively.

"Can you say anything at all about what might happen?" Harry asked.

Once again, Dobby shook his head, and Nathan seemed to have had enough. "Then I'm going back to Hogwarts. With the exception of Harry, all my friends go to Hogwarts."

"Dobby cannot let Nathan Potter be in danger!" Dobby said frantically.

"I've been in danger before," Nathan said patiently.

"Nathan Potter is brave and kind, but he must not go back. Dobby will not let that happen!" Dobby decreed as he raised his hands and immediately Nathan's bed began levitating into the air. Harry was about to send a spell at the elf when Dobby disappeared with another POP and the bed fell to the floor with a loud THUMP.

"Um…how was that supposed to stop me from going to Hogwarts?" Nathan asked completely confused.

"I don't know," Harry admitted, looking just as confused by the elf's actions. "We had better go tell Mum and Dad though."

**ooo0000ooo**

**How To Stop** ** A House-Elf **

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Aug. 15** **th**

It had taken less than a minute for Harry to convince his parents that Nathan was not trying to prank them, and that there really was a breach in the Fidelius Charm. His parents had immediately responded by flooing Professor Dumbledore, who quickly sent his familiar, a Phoenix named Fawkes, to securely transport the entire family to Hogwarts. Harry and Nathan then told everyone about their encounter with the rouge house elf named Dobby.

"Did this elf say anything else?" asked Dumbledore.

"No, sir," Nathan said.

"I don't understand. How did a house elf bypass the Fidelus Charm?" Lily asked.

"All wards have weaknesses, Lily, you know that. Owls, and now house-elves, seem to be immune to the protective magic that stops other magical beings from finding a home protected by the Fidelius." Dumbledore said pensively.

"I know we agreed warding against owls would be counterproductive a few years ago, but surely there is a way to stop a house-elf," Lily said.

"Unfortunately, very little is known about the magic of house-elves, but what is known is that they can ignore practically all types of wards in existence," Dumbledore said pensively. "The elves at Hogwarts, for instance, have no issue with using their method of Apparation around the ancient wards of the castle."

James looked incredulously at Dumbledore. "So you're saying this is just something we're going to have to live with?"

"No," Dumbledore said. "While it doesn't seem like this elf means any of you physical harm, it is still a security breach that we cannot allow. I have spoken with the Hogwarts elves, and they have agreed to have one of their number stay at Godric's Hollow to ensure that this unwelcome elf does not attempt to return."

"That's a relief," said Lily.

"Yes, well, I should mention that the elves have some conditions you need to agree to first," Dumbledore replied, his lips quirking up in a small smile

"Conditions?" James asked. "I didn't think elves knew how to negotiate."

"James, you have never had to mediate an argument between house-elves," Dumbledore said wearily. "They are incredibly competitive creatures when it comes to what they feel is their duty. It once took me two years to finally settle a dispute between the cleaning elves and the kitchen elves. I had tried to establish three party negotiations with the grounds-keeping elves acting as intermediaries, only to discover that both the kitchen and cleaning elves strongly disliked the grounds-keeping elves because of a bizarre series of events that took place during my predecessor's tenure. You see, a kitchen elf had made the mistake of accidentally–"

"The conditions, Albus?" asked Lily impatiently.

"What? Oh, yes, of course. Since the elf that will be staying at your home will not be able to perform any work at Hogwarts, the elves are demanding that whichever elf is sent to Godric's Hollow be allowed to clean all the rooms, maintain some of the grounds, and cook at least two meals a week," Dumbledore explained.

"Wait a second," Harry said incredulously, "they want to do our chores?"

"Elves are awesome!" Nathan added excitedly.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Harry's Room, Godric's ** **Hollow** **, August 20** **th**

_Harry, _

_I'm leaving for Durmstrang within the hour. I apologize that I didn't respond to your letters, but there is a good reason why I never wrote back. My uncle took it upon himself to block delivery of my mail without telling me. My father was not pleased to discover a pile of unopened letters for me in our home when he returned from vacation. _

_Most of the etiquette lessons I was taught were a waste of time, especially since there were taught in conjunction with my cousin. The arrogant ass eventually annoyed me so much that I just took to cursing him after each lesson. It was rather funny to see him try to defend himself. He learned his place after the first week, and I swear he can barely look me in the eyes now without flinching. _

_I can't believe that Hogwarts doesn't have a dueling aspect to their_ _ Def_ _ense class. How were you able to duel me for five seconds at the start of term, let alone five minutes? And don't you dare tell me that you learned it from your Dark Arts class here at Durmstrang. Before everyone knew you as Rosemburg and Kosarev's star student, the entire school heard that you beat practically your entire Dark Arts class on your first day. So spill _ _it, Po_ _tter. If you didn't learn how to duel at Hogwarts, who taught you? _

_Oh, one last thing. I heard a bit of news today that I know will make you very happy, but I'm not going to tell you until you get back to Durmstrang. So hurry up._

_See you soon, _

_Calypso _

Placing the letter down, Harry wondered if he should tell Calypso about Quirrell. While Calypso always seemed to find a way to discover things out on her own, Harry did not want to talk about the man who tried to kill his brother, and he knew Calypso would want to know what happened.

After re-reading the bottom of the letter, Harry glanced at the calendar on his wall. Today was the 20th of August, and his Portkey would only work through the 25th.

"See you soon, indeed," he said with a smile.


	8. Rising Expectations and Raising Questions

**The Late Arrival **

**Durmstrang Institute of Magic, Aug. 25** **th **

Arriving just outside of Durmstrang's wards, Harry put his trunk down on the ground and took a moment to reorient himself. As soon as the dizziness that accompanied international Portkeys passed, he began to follow the dirt path that lead to Durmstrang. Harry absentmindedly noted that, while not very aesthetically pleasing, the Kautokeino province was a much more tolerable place during the summer than the winter. The temperature was pleasant and Harry spotted a few students relaxing by one of the nearby lakes.

As he crossed the outer wards, Harry couldn't help but grin when he saw the school itself. While Durmstrang looked like a fierce and imposing structure during the winter, it was much less so during the summer. The school was surrounded by green grass and had to have thousands of birds lazily perched along the roof. The sight certainly diminished Durmstrang's mystique as a cut-throat school for the dark arts.

"Harry!" a booming voice called from above.

Looking up, Harry smiled when he saw Viktor hovering about a hundred feet above him on his broom.

"Viktor, it's good to see you," Harry said as Viktor swooped down from the sky. "Thanks for the birthday present. I'll make sure to wear your junior national jersey when you're playing in the world cup someday."

"I'm sorry for not getting you something better, Harry. I know you're not the biggest Quidditch fan, but between the traveling, daily practices, and games I wasn't able to shop much."

"It was a great gift, Viktor, don't worry about it. How did your team do this summer?"

"I outplayed the other Seeker on our team in every practice, but the coaches still went with Peja. He's been on the team for four years, and they felt he understood the offense better." Viktor scowled angrily. "He caught the Snitch only once in the first seven games, and we won only twice. The coaches seemed content with keeping Peja at Seeker, even though my own teammates had all but demanded that I take his place.

"So what did you do to him?" Harry asked knowingly.

"Whatever do you mean, Harry?" Viktor asked innocently.

"Viktor, please. When it comes to Quidditch, you're more ruthless than Calypso in a duel."

"You know me too well, Harry." A dark smirk appeared on Viktor's face. "Peja suffered a rather grievous training accident during a scrimmage a few weeks ago. I was feinting, and poor Peja hit the ground going full speed after a dive of over 500 feet. He broke over 20 bones and fractured his skull. The Healers ruled him medically unable to play for the last five games of the season."

Harry shook his head. "Remind me never to play Quidditch with you Viktor."

Snorting in amusement, Viktor said, "As if I could ever get you onto the pitch, Harry. We won four out of our last five games, and I caught the Snitch in every game. The coaches were really impressed."

"Good for you. I'd love to hear more, but I've got to unpack," Harry said. gesturing to his trunk.

"You are just getting here?"

Harry nodded. "My Portkey arrived less than 15 minutes ago."

"Then you had better hurry up. The welcoming feast is going to be starting in a few hours," Viktor warned.

"But it's not even noon. Why is it starting so soon?"

"Sometimes I forget that you aren't older, Harry. This will be your first welcoming feast, won't it?" Viktor asked rhetorically. "The welcoming feast takes a very long time. First, Karkaroff will make staffing announcements. The first years are then introduced as a group, but a list of first years that tested into an advanced class is also read off. The list includes the student's name, where they are from, and what classes they tested into. That typically takes a very long time. Next, each teacher will announce the students who gained the rank of Master in each of their classes. They will explain why they chose that student's final project as the best, present an award, and take a photo with each student. Finally, the students who finished last in every class are announced. Some professors simply announce the student who finished last, while others spend a good deal of time mocking the student's final project. After all of that is finished, the feast begins."

"So I had better get up to my room and start unpacking quickly."

"That would be a good idea. I'll see you at the feast, Harry—oh, and Calypso was looking for your earlier," Viktor said before taking off back into the air.

After parting from Viktor, Harry quickly made his way to the castle, up the main staircase to the fourth floor, and down the long hallway towards his room. Finally reaching the door labeled 'Potter,' Harry cast the unlocking charm and walked inside.

"_Stupefy_."

Harry had no chance to avoid the Stunning spell, and it smacked him straight in the chest, rendering him unconscious.

"_Rennervate_."

"What the hell?" Harry moaned, rubbing the back of his head.

"Sloppy, Potter. Did you practice at all this break?" Calypso mocked.

"Yes," Harry snapped as he slowly stood up, "but I didn't expect you to be waiting in _my_ room to attack me."

"Well if you had actually arrived at a normal time like most of the school, and not waited until the eleventh hour to show up, maybe I wouldn't have cursed you."

Finally shaking off the effects of the stunning spell, Harry got his first look at Calypso since the end of last term. His first impression was that she looked very tired. Her normally perfectly-combed hair was trussed, and she had small bags under her eyes. Unable to hide his surprise, Harry asked, "What happened to you?"

Calypso simply glared at him. "My father refused to expand my room this year. He said that since _you_ managed to expand your room by yourself, then I should be able to do it as well. I've been sleeping on a disgusting cot for the last few days, and showering in the group bathrooms."

"And what does that have to do with you Stunning me?" Harry asked, secretly amused at how annoyed his friend was.

"You need to expand my room and fix my bed. I know you don't know how to make my own bathroom yet, but you _will_ figure out how to do that by the end of the year," Calypso growled.

"When did I become your personal maintenance wizard?" Harry asked as he casually began enlarging his own room.

"Potter," Calypso said dangerously, "I haven't been able to sleep since I got back to Durmstrang."

"That's unfortunate," Harry said, sounding unconcerned. "I imagine that must have been as annoying as being stunned the moment you walked into your room."

Calypso looked apocalyptic for a moment before she took a deep breath and immediately calmed down. "I'm sorry," she muttered.

"What was that?" Harry asked. "I couldn't hear you."

"I said, I'm sorry that I Stunned you. I've been waiting forever for you to get here and I got frustrated," Calypso admitted.

"Apology accepted," Harry said as he carefully began tying the enlarging charms to one of the receptacles he had made over the summer.

"So will you fix my room?" Calypso asked sounding exasperated.

"Are you going to ask nicely?" Harry taunted.

"Harry, will you _please_ fix my room before I get annoyed and decide to curse you?"

"You really need to work on learning how to ask for things nicely," Harry commented, "but fine. Help me unpack, and I'll fix your room up after the feast."

"My hero," Calypso said sarcastically before beginning to stack Harry's books on his bookcase.

"So what was this news that would make me really happy?" Harry asked casually as he transfigured his small cot into a much more comfortable looking bed.

With a bright smile on her face, Calypso cheerfully replied, "Grausam got fired."

Harry quickly spun around and stared at Calypso in shock."What? Please tell me you're not joking."

"No joke." Calypso smiled. "My father said that the Highmaster officially let him go in early August."

"That's great," Harry said enthusiastically. "Do you know who the new Dark Arts professor is?"

"I might," Calypso said mysteriously.

"Who is it?" asked Harry. "Not that it matters. Anyone would be better than Grausam."

"True," Calypso agreed. "You'll see who it is at the welcoming feast. Are you looking forward to whatever gift you're going to be getting from Kosarev?"

"I really haven't thought much about it. I didn't even know that I would be getting a gift until Viktor told me. What about you? Will you still be getting a gift for finishing first in third year Dark Arts with Grausam gone?"

"I doubt it," Calypso replied, sounding unconcerned. "Not that it matters. Grausam being fired is enough of a gift for me."

Harry laughed. "I doubt anything Kosarev gets me will compare to that."

As the two second years continued organizing Harry's room, Calypso asked, "So how was your summer?"

"It was alright. You know most of the important stuff already. I did read some of your journal, but I haven't finished it yet," Harry admitted.

"Well, you had better start reading it," Calypso advised. "Third year is when you start to learn actual dark magic."

"I know," Harry said slightly uncomfortably. "I haven't been beaten in a duel yet, and I really don't want to start now."

"Excuse me? I do believe that you have yet to beat _me_ in a duel, Potter," Calypso said haughtily.

"You know what I meant. I haven't lost a duel _in class_," he clarified. "Does that make you happy?"

"Yes."

Harry rolled his eyes while fighting to keep a smile off his face. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed Calypso over the summer. "So how was your cousin's? Was it as bad as your letter made it sound?"

"You have no idea," Calypso said ruefully. "First of all, I didn't even want to go, but my father felt that it was time that I learn how to act like a proper lady."

"Who were you staying with again?" Harry asked

"My Uncle Lucius and Aunt Narcissa."

"The Malfoys? You had to spend an entire month at Malfoy Manor? Wait... so that means Draco is your cousin!" Harry laughed. "Oh, I wish I could tell Nathan about this."

"I'm sure your brother would find it more amusing than I did," Calypso said ruefully. "After the third time Draco started whining about how your brother was allowed to join the Quidditch team when he wasn't, I started to hex him whenever he brought up your brother's name. Draco's also not very fond of you, and he asked me if I had cursed you yet."

"What did I ever do to Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"Apparently you tried to hex him and then slammed a door in his face on the Hogwarts express," Calypso replied. "At least that's what his two ogreish friends Crabbe and Goyle told me."

Shrugging Harry said, "Whatever, it's not like I really care whether Malfoy likes me or not."

Looking enviously around Harry's room, Calypso said, "You had better do as good a job on my room later."

Harry smirked. "You could just learn the spells yourself you know."

"Oh, you'll be teaching them to me for next year," Calypso said with certainty, "But I am _not _sleeping on a cot for another night."

"They're not that bad if you cast a cushioning charm on them," Harry said.

"I'm a Rosier. I don't sleep on cots," Calypso said arrogantly. "I think you're unpacked enough. You can put your clothes away later. Why don't you go fix my room now."

"After the feast," Harry said as he continued to put away his clothes.

"You'll be tired and half asleep if we wait that long. Just do it now," Calypso argued.

"Patience is a virtue, you know," Harry commented, "and it's not like we have a lot of time left anyway. We really should be heading down to the feast soon."

"Fine, but I don't care if I have to send a constant stream of stinging hexes at you to keep you awake, you _will _fix my room later," Calypso warned.

"And you wonder why your father though you needed to learn how to act like a proper lady," Harry teased.

Calypso was halfway through the incantation for a punching hex when Harry was able to successfully cast the counter curse for the spell.

"Where exactly did you learn how to duel?" Calypso demanded angrily. "Draco was completely worthless. He didn't even think to move out of the way of the hexes I sent at him."

"My dad taught Nathan and me a little bit. You know, the whole Boy-Who-Lived thing makes both of us targets, so we learned the basics to protect ourselves," Harry said, not wanting to mention his time with Quirrell.

Calypso looked at Harry before snorting in derision. "Whatever, Harry. When you want to tell me the truth, let me know. I've got to get changed before the feast. Meet me at the staircase in half an hour," Calypso said bluntly before walking out of the room.

Once Calypso was gone, Harry shook his head and sat down on his bed. He wasn't sure how Calypso knew he was lying, but she did. It just didn't make any sense. Did his eye twitch or something when he lied? Uncle Sirius once mentioned that Uncle Remus refused to play poker anymore because he couldn't stop himself from smiling every time he bluffed. Perhaps he had a similar problem and Calypso had picked up on it.

A knock on the door broke Harry out of his thoughts. "Come in," he called out.

The door opened, and Viktor entered with Kira trailing behind him. "Are you ready to go to the feast?" Viktor asked, tearing his eyes away from the large windows that provided a great view of the Quidditch pitch.

"Sure," Harry replied. "Calypso left a little while ago to go change. I'm supposed to meet her at the main staircase."

"_Finite_," Kira snapped, pointing her wand at the nearest wall.

When nothing happened, Kira looked a little upset and said, "So you made another one I see."

"Yes, the receptacle I have everything tied to will last through Christmas," said Harry. "I'll remove all the charms before I leave for break and then cast them again when I come back."

"Can you show me how to make my windows larger?" Viktor asked.

"I guess," Harry said, "but why just your windows?" .

Viktor looked somewhat embarrassed. "So I can fly in and out of my room on a broom."

"Sure Viktor." Harry laughed. "I'll show you how to do it. It's actually not that hard."

After ten minutes of demonstrating how to expand a window, Kira snapped out, "Viktor, you can learn this later. Let's go to the feast," before walking out of the room.

"Why is she in such a rush?" Harry quietly asked his friend.

"She got the top spot in 4th year spell creation last year," Viktor whispered back. "She wants to get a good seat at the fest."

"Whatever. I'm getting the Charms award, but you don't see me rushing everyone downstairs," Harry muttered as he and Viktor left his room.

"It means a lot to her," Viktor defended his girlfriend. "She has always been among the top three in her class at spell creation, but this will be her first time getting the top rank for any class."

"Finally. What took you two so long, and what are you two whispering about? Never mind, I don't want to know. Just hurry up," Kira said impatiently. "Rosier had better not be long because I'm not waiting for her."

Fortunately, Calypso arrived shortly after Harry, Krum, and Kira, and the four of them made their way down the main staircase and into the Main Hall. Once inside, Kira practically dragged Viktor to the front of one of the long tables.

"Must we sit with her?" Calypso muttered to Harry as he trailed after Viktor.

"I don't particularly like her either you know," Harry pointed out, "but Viktor's my friend."

"I heard a rumor that this is the worst class of first years in a few decades," Kira said condescendingly as Harry and Calypso sat down. "Only a few of them were even able to test into an advanced class, and no one tested into a third year class."

"I was told something similar by my father. The Highmaster was not at all impressed with this year's class, apparently," Calypso confirmed.

"Good. Hopefully it won't take that long to get to the actual feast this year," Vikor added.

"How do the first years arrive?" Harry asked curiously, suddenly realizing that he didn't know.

"They arrived by Portkey earlier today," Calypso said as she began pointing out large groups of younger students around the hall to Harry. "You know, it's kind of sad that all the first years made it to Durmstrang before you bothered to show up."

"What took you so long to get here anyway?" Viktor asked.

"Who cares," Kira said before her eyes widened and she immediately stood up, her chest pushed out, her legs shoulder length apart, and her arms behind her back in a military stance.

Harry saw Calypso roll her eyes at Kira, but she, Viktor, and most of the students in the Main Hall soon stood up and assumed a similar position, though at a much more relaxed pace.

"Stand up, Harry, the professors are arriving," Calypso hissed quietly under her breath, causing Harry to quickly assume a similar position as everyone else standing around him.

Not a moment after Calypso's warning, ominous drumming began to echo around the hall, and the large double doors behind the staff table opened. All of the professors, led by Highmaster Karkaroff, slowly walked through the doors and stood behind their designated spots at the staff table. When all the staff members had made it to their position, the drumming stopped and the professors, as one, pulled out their chairs and took their seat. The students followed immediately.

Karkaroff clapped his hands and his aid handed him a piece of parchment. With the slightest look of annoyance on his face, Kakaroff stood. "I would like to welcome our latest group of first years to Durmstrang. I'm sure that you will be a credit to our fine institution…."

In the years to come, that was as far as Harry would ever remember Karkaroff's welcoming speech. He had been scanning the staff table as soon as the professors entered the hall to get a glimpse of the new Dark Arts instructor. He had assumed that the new teacher would have just taken Grausem's spot on the table, but the History professor now occupied Grausam's former position. It wasn't until Karkaroff began speaking that Harry turned his attention to those sitting closest to the Highmaster. To Karkaroff's immediate left was Professor Kosarev, but sitting to the Highmaster's right was a face Harry remembered all too well from last year. It was Romulus Rosier.

Seeing the look of comprehension on Harry's face, Calypso leaned in and said, "I would have written to tell you, but I didn't want to chance your parents noticing my father's name and asking questions. I've told father a little bit about you. He's looking forward to seeing what you are capable of this year."

**ooo0000ooo**

**Disappointment and Dubiousness **

**Main Hall, Sept. 4** **th**

Porridge covered Harry's robes as Calypso dropped a large tome directly in front of him at the breakfast table.

"Read this."

"Good morning to you as well," Harry said sarcastically as he cast a cleaning charm to get rid of his spilled breakfast.

"Don't 'good morning' me," Calypso snapped angrily. "Read this and stop making me look like an idiot."

Glancing at the large book, Harry looked up and read aloud, "_Befuddlin__g, Breaking, and Bashing: A Guide to Questionable Magic_. Are you trying to tell me something?"

Calypso simply glared at her friend. "I didn't tell my father that you were talented only to have you nearly lose your first few duels. I'd start reading that if I were you. We're going to have a few practice duels to get you back into shape after class today."

"It's not like I lost," Harry countered.

"Did you or did you not get thrown across the dueling platform by Rosemary Tomlinson? You do know she had to repeat her first year Dark Arts class, don't you? You should have wiped the floor with her," Calypso said.

"She knew a lot of spells that I hadn't seen bef–"

"From what my father tells me, you were tossed around by a simple flinging hex! When you do poorly in front of my father, it reflects badly on me, Potter, so I'm going to make sure that doesn't happen again. Understand?" Calypso demanded.

Before Harry could argue that he didn't need help, a small brown Hogwarts owl landed in front of him with a letter. Harry removed the letter from the owl's leg, curious to see just what his brother could be writing to him about so soon in the term.

_Harry, _

_I know that I'm probably the last person you would ever expect to get a letter from, especially so soon in the year; however, prudence demands that I inform you of your brother and Ron's idiotic actions since Nathan seems reluctant to do so himself._

_From what I was able to gather from Ron and Nathan, there was some sort of malfunction at the gateway to platform nine and three-quarters. Your parents and the Weasleys were somehow pushed through the barrier, which proceeded to close itself off, leaving Nathan and Ron stranded in Muggle London. Before your parents or the Weasleys could get back to Nathan and Ron, my two best friends had completely thrown all good sense away, and decided the best way to get to Hogwarts was to fly R_ _on's dad's enc_ _hanted car to Scotland. _

_After being spotted, and photographed, by a number of Muggles over London, they crash landed into the_ _ Whomping Willow_ _ just after the welcoming feast began. Professor Snape threatened to expel them both, and the headmaster said that if they ever did something like this again, he would be forced to comply. I honestly have no idea what the two of them were thinking! They should have just waite_ _d, it wasn't like_ _ your parents were just going to forget about them!_

_Both Nathan and Ron are apparently embarrassed about the whole thing, and have been mumbling about probably getting a_ _ Howler from their parents. _

_I hope your start of term has been better. Feel free to write me if you ever want to talk. _

_Hermione _

With a groan of disgust, Harry slammed the letter down. From what he knew about Hermione, there was no way she would have ever made something like this up, which meant his brother was getting stupider by the year. It had to be Weasley's influence. Nathan would never do something that idiotic!

"Bad news?" Calypso asked curiously.

Harry just tossed her the letter. He knew exactly what Calypso would say, and for once she would be right. Nathan could have been arrested for breaking the Statute of Secrecy. How had his brother thought this was a good idea? What in Merlin's name could have possessed Nathan to do something so absolutely stu–

"Who's Hermione?"

"Huh?" Harry asked in confusion. "Hermione? She's my brother's friend from Hogwarts."

Calypso looked at Harry impassively. "What's she like?"

"What? She's my brother's only smart friend. Who cares about Hermione, though? My brother could have been arrested. Merlin, he should have been arrested!"

"Don't be so dramatic," Calypso said. "Your brother _is_ the Boy Who Lived, Harry."

"So he can't get in trouble? I doubt even Dumbledore could protect him from breaking the Statute of Secrecy like this again," Harry argued.

"Maybe, but I don't think so. I doubt your ministry would be all that interested in prosecuting your brother," Calypso said casually.

"It was still stupid," Harry grumbled.

"Hmm…Yes, yes it was," Calypso agreed. "If a Howler is the worst your brother has to deal with, then I'd say he is quite fortunate."

Harry's eyes lit up. "Calypso, you wouldn't know how to make a Howler, would you?"

"That depends," Calypso said deviously. "Are you going to be meeting me later for a few practice duels?"

Reluctantly, Harry pushed aside his breakfast and began reading the book Calypso brought him. He never noticed Calypso subtly burn the letter from Hermione.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Dark Magic 101**

**Dark Arts Classroom, Sept. 16** **th**

"Mr. Potter, stay behind," Professor Rosier ordered.

With a slight grimace, Harry waited for the rest of the students to clear out of the room. He knew exactly why he was being held after class, and it wasn't to be praised by his instructor. Since the start of term, Harry was aware of his steady decline in his Dark Arts class. It was impossible for him not to be aware of it. Not with Calypso giving him almost daily reports of how disappointed her father was in him.

"Are you happy at Durmstrang, Mr. Potter?" Romulus asked once the last student had filed out of the room.

Caught slightly off guard by the question, Harry quickly responded, "Of course, sir."

"Really?" Romulus said with an air of astonishment in his voice. "You are aware that Durmstrang seeks to foster _talented_ wizards, aren't you? Perhaps a place like Beauxbatons would be better suited for someone of your ability."

It took every bit of self-control that Harry possessed not to snap that he was without out a doubt the most talented student in fourth year Transfiguration and Charms. "I belong at Durmstrang, sir."

"So you say, yet your performance in my class says otherwise. I confess that I find myself at a loss with you Mr. Potter. I simply find it hard to connect the promising young wizard, whom my daughter spoke to me about at length this summer, with the slightly incompetent boy standi–"

"I am not incompetent," Harry said before he could stop himself.

The silver spell left Romulus wand before Harry had even finished speaking, and it struck Harry in the abdomen. A moment later Harry found himself on all fours himself dry-heaving onto the classroom floor.

"Do not interrupt me," Romulus calmly chided as if he hadn't just cursed his student. "Now, Mr. Potter, what are we going to do about you?"

Slowly standing up, Harry's mind was a whirl. How had Romulus cursed him? The oath should have forbidden him from harming any student! So lost in his thoughts, Harry didn't hear his professor repeat his question. Harry did, however, feel the sting of the professor's curse when he didn't respond.

"Pathetic," Romulus decried. "I expect to see improvement, Mr. Potter, or else I will expect you to be willing to drop this class by Christmas. I have no interest in teaching those who don't wish to learn. Dismissed."

Harry didn't need to be told twice. Shaking slightly, he quickly made his way out of the classroom and ran as fast as his shaky legs would carry him to Calypso's room. After pounding on her door for a few seconds, the door finally opened.

"What in Merlin's name is your problem, Potter? I was studying!"

"How is it that your dad can curse students?" Harry demanded.

Calypso stuck her head out of her door and gave a slight glance around to ensure that no one was standing in the hallway. "Get inside, hurry up."

Quickly following Calypso into her room, Harry sat down in a chair and looked at his friend expectantly.

"So," she said condescendingly, "you finally screwed up enough to make him curse you."

"How can he curse students? The oath shouldn't let him!"

"The oath," Calypso said sarcastically, "is up to the Highmaster to enforce upon the professor's hiring."

"Karkaroff didn't make your father take the oath," Harry said in realization.

"Correct."

Harry looked decided nervous. "But…but–"

"So what did you do?"

"Excuse me?"

"What did you do?" Calypso repeated. "Father obviously cursed you. Did he finally get fed up with your abysmal performance? What curse did he use?"

"I don't know what the spell was," Harry said. "It was silver and made me want vomit as soon as possible."

"Sounds like the retching hex. You're lucky you skipped breakfast this morning, Harry. That particular spell makes you empty the contents of your stomach until you dry heave. By not eating, you only felt a tiny bit of the spell's potential effects. So what happened? Father knows that the Highmaster would prefer that he not curse students, so you must have done something seriously stupid to make him upset with you."

"He called me incompetent–"

"And you argued back," Calypso replied, shaking her head. "Potter, you could probably get away with talking back to Kosarev or Rosemburg, but only because they think you're some sort of prodigy. For the rest of us, we'd be in detention for a month. You're fortunate a retching hex is all that Father did to you. That _is_ all he did to you, right?"

"He also told me that he expects to see me improve or to withdraw from his class," Harry admitted, very embarrassed.

"You've got to be kidding me," Calypso said angrily. "Alright, enough is enough, it's time we figured out what is wrong with you. What spell were you supposed to learn today?"

"The trauma curse."

"Alright, let's see it. Curse me," Calypso ordered.

"What?" asked Harry in horror. "No way. Do you know what that curse does?"

"It makes the victim suffer the immediate psychological effects of a traumatic experience including feelings of intense fear, helplessness, and duration and intensity of the feelings are proportional to the power behind the curse," Calypso recited perfectly.

"And you want me to curse you?" Harry asked. "Knowing what that spell does?"

Looking at Harry in annoyance, Calyspo asked, "Were you able to successfully cast the spell during class?"

Slightly embarrassed, Harry replied, "A little. My partner said he felt a little scared your father would fail him."

"So the answer is no, you weren't able to cast it," Calypso said sarcastically.

"Fine, I guess not."

"Well, let's get to work then," she said. "We have to figure out what you're doing wrong and why."

"Alright, if you're sure." Harry raised his wand and looked at Calypso for confirmation. When she nodded her head, he said, "_Traumata_."

The spell crossed the short distance and struck Calypso in the chest. She staggered back a step or two before a look of contempt crossed her face. "Weak, Potter. I don't feel a thing."

"_Traumata_," Harry tried again.

"Nothing," Calypso replied.

"_Traumata_!"

"Wait, I think I feel something," Calypso said, holding up her hand to stop Harry from casting again.

"Really?"

"Yes, it's pity for your horrendous failure," she snapped angrily.

Harry sighed. "I just don't get it. What am I doing wrong?"

"Let's try a different tactic," Calypso said. "Show me the wand movement."

Very intricately, Harry demonstrated the precise wand movement for Calypso.

After making Harry do the wand movement a few more times, Calypso seemed pleased enough. "Well, you could probably tighten the jab at the end, but that shouldn't be stopping the spell from functioning properly. Who or what are you focusing on to make the spell work?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Who are you thinking of? Who do you envision when you're casting this spell? How do you focus the intent behind this curse?" Calypso asked.

"I'm not thinking about anyone in particular," Harry said. "I just think of someone becoming scared."

Calypso stared open mouthed at Harry for a moment before angrily saying, "That has to be the most pathetic thing I've ever heard. You know magic requires strong intent to work properly, especially curses. Have you been putting such horrendously weak intent behind all your dark arts spells?"

At Harry's slightly guilty look, Calypso snapped, "It's no wonder they won't work properly! Try putting some actual desire behind the spell and try it again!"

"Alright," Harry said hesitantly before focusing on causing Calypso to feel scared—no, terrified, he corrected himself. "_Traumata_!"

The spell smacked Calypso in between the eyes and she fell to the floor, shivered slightly, and slowly stood up. "B-better, but still not great. You need to mean it, Harry. You need to want to cause the other person to feel absolutely terrified."

"But I don't want to make you terrified of me!" Harry argued back.

"Then don't think of me," Calypso said immediately. "If our positions were reversed, and it was me who was practicing this spell on you, do you think I would be thinking of _you_ to gather the intent behind this spell? Of course not. I would be thinking of someone I hated. Someone I wanted to fear me, someone who I would enjoy seeing terrified of my very existence."

"But I don't think I know anyone I would want terrified of me Calyp–"

"Oh, don't give me that shit, Potter. Do you remember last year at all? After your little stint in the hospital wing, you were so scared of being attacked by your fellow first years that you routinely humiliated them in class everyday. Not only that, you _wanted_ the older years to be so intimidated, so terrified, of crossing wands with you, that you agreed to jump a year in the Dark Arts. So, don't you dare tell me that you can't summon the desire to make others fear you, Harry."

"Okay, you've made your point," Harry growled.

"Good. So stop whining and cast the curse correctly."

"_Traumata_!"

This time, as soon as the curse struck Calypso, her eyes widened in horror and she fell to the floor. Unsure if he had done the curse properly, Harry watched as Calypso grabbed her legs and began rocking back and forth in the fetal position mumbling incoherently to herself.

"_Finite_," Harry cast quickly. "Are you alright?" he asked worriedly.

Unwrapping her arms from her legs, Calypso stood up slowly, and took a noticeable step away from Harry when he made to help her up. Harry could see a tinge of fear still in her eyes when she looked at him, and he felt horrible for causing it.

"No," Calypso said quietly. "No, I'm not alright. That was…intense, but you did a good job."

"I'm so sorry," Harry said sincerely. "I didn't mean to overdo it."

"No, you did a good job," Calypso said, not meeting Harry's eyes. "Whatever you used to focus on, it worked. If you can cast the rest of your spells at the same level, you might become one of father's favorite students."

"I'm not sure if that's a good thing," Harry admitted.

"I-I think we've solved your problem, Harry. Now leave me alone, I need to study," Calypso said, putting more space between the two of them.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Harry asked softly as he took a step towards her.

Calypso's demeanor immediately changed and she drew her wand. Harry immediately stopped moving towards her when he noticed that the wand's tip was glowing an angry shade of purple. Slowly Harry raised his hands and took a step away from Calypso. He saw Calypso's normally expressionless face show anger, fear, and confusion before she slowly lowered her wand.

"Of course I'm not alright!" she snarled. "You just hit me with a very powerful trauma curse. Dark magic doesn't just disappear with a _finite_, Potter. All it does, if anything, is stop the curse from continuing to do harm. Did you think you could say _finite_ and the effects would disappear like a Jelly-Legs jinx? That's not how dark magic works. I'll be alright, but I need some time to get over the spell. I'll be fine tomorrow, but for now, just leave me alone."

Harry felt like Calypso had just punched him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, Potter," she said, suddenly deflating and sounding tired. "I knew what the curse did, and I knew what could happen. Like I said, I'll be fine tomorrow."

"Alright," Harry said hesitantly, "I'll see you tomorrow. Oh, and Calypso?"

"What, Potter?" she asked softly.

"Thank you for your help."

There was a pause before Calypso said, "You're welcome, Harry."

**ooo0000ooo**

**The Project**

**Durmstrang Library, Oct. 3** **rd**

"Why do you want to study all the way back here?" Calypso asked with a bored expression on her face.

"Because no one ever comes back here," Harry whispered, "and I didn't want to be overheard by anyone."

"It's called a silencing spell, Harry, now can we go back to our normal table?" Calypso asked, moving to leave.

"Wait." Harry grabbed her hand and practically pulled her down into a nearby chair. "I have something I wanted to show you."

"It had better be good, Potter," Calypso said, folding her arms and looking impatiently at her friend.

"Oh, it is, don't worry." Harry stood up and pulled several old texts on goblins off a nearby shelf and placed them in front of Calypso.

"_Mackrack the Magnificent: A Biography of 11__th__ century Goblin Warlords, Kriegrump: How to cook Goblin Style_, and _Fleshrice the Foul: One Goblin's Attempt to Tame a Hydra_. Harry, if I were you, I'd make your point very quickly before I decide to hex you for wasting my time," Calypso warned.

With a roll of his eyes, Harry tapped each of the books with his wand, revealing their actual titles.

"An illusion?" Calypso asked, sounding impressed.

"After your father decided to test me for them, I decided they might be interesting to read about," Harry explained.

"Well how would you feel if one of your worst students suddenly became one of your best?" Calypso asked. "You've really impressed him lately, Harry. He was really surprised with how easily you were able to counter your opponent's spell chain in your last duel. You haven't been holding back during our duels, have you?

Harry grinned slightly at Calypso's praise. It hadn't taken long for him to re-establish himself as one of the top students in his Dark Arts class once he began casting his spells with negative intent behind them. In fact, his spells were now consistently among the strongest in the class. The sudden turn around and increased intensity of his curses was something that Professor Rosier was very quick to spot, and he had begun having Harry duel more frequently to see the extent of his improvement.

"Calypso, if I held back during our duels, you'd probably curse me into a million pieces." Harry pointed out before lowering his voice. "Listen, over the summer Professor Rosemburg sent me a letter. Basically, he said that he was upset that I didn't get the top spot in his transfiguration class." Seeing that he had Calypso's undivided attention, Harry pressed on. "He also sent me a book on advanced human transfiguration, including the Animagus transformation."

Calypso sat up straight before turning her attention back to the books in front of her. After reading the new titles, Calypso smirked and looked up at Harry. "So when do we start?"

"You really want to try it?" he asked. "Not many people can do it."

"No Harry, I don't want to try it, I want to _do_ it," Calypso clarified. "The Rosiers have had a number of Animagi' in our family line, and I believe your grandfather possessed the talent, right? So you probably inherited it. Obviously, Rosemburg clearly thinks you could manage it as well."

"How did you know my grandfather was an Animagus?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Animagi need to register across Europe," Calypso replied. "Not all of them do, of course, but those who do are a matter of public record."

Looking confused, Harry asked, "And why were you looking at an old list of Animagi?"

"Do you think that you're the first person to think that this would be something worth trying?" Calypso asked. "It's essentially an automatic 'M' for whatever year of transfiguration you are in. Not to mention how useful it would be having an animal form."

"You weren't seriously thinking about doing it by yourself, were you?" Harry asked. "Even Rosemburg told me not to do that. It's supposedly really dangerous."

"That's why I was looking at the Animagi list," Calypso explained. "The ability is usually passed on, and I needed to know who else I could potentially work with."

Harry nodded his head. It made sense. Still, he couldn't help but think Calypso was holding something back from him. "Okay, so when do you want to start?"

"Immediately."

**ooo0000ooo**

**Whatever Doesn't Kill You**

**Harry's Room, Durmstrang, Oct. 30** **th**

"Do it again."

"I think that's enough for tonight."

"Do. It. Again."

"Are you sure? We've been practicing for a while. And I know it hurts."

"Of course it does," Calypso said irritably, "but since I can't cast the spell, you're getting more practice at Transfiguration. The only way I'm going to be able to keep up with you is if I have a better understanding of what the transformation feels like. I'm not going to fall behind and let you move on to the next stage without me."

Harry sighed. "Calypso, don't worry so much. I'll wait for yo–"

"No you will not!" she snapped. "If I can't keep up, you will not slow down for me. If you actually think that's a good idea, then you should just go back to Hogwarts!"

"I was only trying to be nice!" Harry spat.

"Well don't be. You came here to become a better wizard. That means you can't slow down your progress for anyone. You want to be nice? To help me? Then cast the spell again."

"Fine, see if I care." Harry said harshly, his voice belying his hesitancy to raise his wand. It had been almost a month since Harry and Calypso had gone to Professor Rosemburg and asked about the Animagus transformation. While Rosemburg had been rather dismissive of Calypso's chances at managing the process, he put up with her presence at Harry's request.

"Ready?" Harry asked, again.

At Calypso's confirmation, Harry raised his wand and slowly ran it over her arm. With a muttered incantation, he jabbed his wand into Calypso's hand.

Calypso bit her lip as the bones, muscles, and tendons in her left hand were reshaped and contorted in different directions. When the transfiguration was completely, Calypso took a deep breath and gazed at the fearsome bear paw and claws that her left hand had turned into. "I need to learn some partial transfiguration. Could be useful for a duel," she muttered while taking a swipe with her transfigured hand.

"Ready for me to change it back?" Harry asked after a few minutes of letting Calypso get used to the different appendage.

"Go ahead." Calypso lifted her arm up to Harry and let him cast the counter to the transfiguration.

When the transfiguration was complete, Calypso couldn't help but softly rub the back of her hand. "I can tell you're getting better at the spell, but it still hurts."

"Do you want to visit Lady Shluga?" Harry asked, leaning forward to look at Calypso's hand. "It doesn't look like any of the bones are misplaced."

"No, nothing feels wrong." Calyspo flexed her hand a few times. "I think it's alright, just a little sore."

"Sorry about that," Harry said sheepishly. "I'm still not sure what I'm doing wrong. The transfiguration should happen instantaneously, but it's not for some reason. Rosemburg said he'd work with me this weekend, so, hopefully, I'll be able to figure out what I'm doing wrong soon."

A soft knocking on the door caused Calypso to swallow whatever reply she was about to make, and Harry stood up and opened the door, revealing Viktor and Kira.

"Err, hey Viktor," Harry said. "Do you need something?"

Viktor smiled. "Kira has just told me that you are trying to become an Animagus?"

"I hate to break it to you Krum," Calypso drawled, "but your girlfriend is liar."

"Please," Kira said dismissively. "I overheard your meeting with Potter in the library. I didn't think you would actually try it, but when you started monopolizing Rosemburg's office hours, I knew what you two were doing.."

"And we would like to become Animagi as well," Viktor said giving his girlfriend a look.

"No," Calypso said simply.

"I don't think it's up to you Rosier," Viktor said challengingly. "Unless you've been holding back a lot in transfiguration, I think it's Harry's decision."

"There has never been a Megara with the capability to become an Animagus, and Krum, you are more interested in flying on that twig of yours than actually doing work," Calyspo said haughtily. "You both would just slow Harry and I down."

Kira's face turned red in anger at being reminded of her bloodline's less-than-stellar reputation for developing magical talents.

"Kira," Krum warned, seeing his girlfriend reaching for her wand.

"The truth hurts, Megara," Calypso said icily. "Now leave. Harry and I would like to get some more practice in tonight, and I doubt you would be able to do the magic involved."

Sensing that the situation could very easily devolve into an exchange of curses, Viktor turned to Harry for help. "I promise that I will work hard Harry. You told me last year that you felt I had a talent in Transfiguration. I promise that I'll work hard at this. And who's to say that Kira cannot become an Animagus just because of her family's history? Kira, how long has it been since a member of your family has attempted to become an Animagus?"

"Over five generations," Kira snapped, not turning her glare away from Calypso, who returned the stare defiantly.

"Five generations is a long time. The talent easily could have entered her family in that time," Viktor argued.

"Perhaps Krum's right, Harry," Calypso said, causing everyone to fall silent in surprise. "Not about Megara, mind you- her bloodline is as worthless as a Muggle's-but perhaps we should allow Krum to practice with us."

Calypso's comment seemed to push Kira over the edge. Before Krum could stop her, Kira drew her wand and fired off a hex at Calypso. Without a second thought, Harry cast a _protego_ over Calypso, causing the spell to redirect and strike an empty chair, scorching the back of it.

"Relying on Potter to fight your battles for you now Rosier?" Kira taunted. "How pathetic."

"Enough!" Viktor quickly cast _Expelliarmus_ and disarmed Kira, preventing her from sending another hex. Kira met Viktor's eyes for a moment before folding her arms over her chest and sending a glare at her boyfriend. Turning back towards Harry, Viktor said, "I'm sorry about this Harry. Just...give us a chance. I promise you wont regret it."

"I'll help _you_, Viktor," Harry said, pointedly excluding Kira.

"Thank you, Harry." Viktor looked at Harry's destroyed chair and turned to Kira. "Don't you have something you would like to say? An apology, perhaps?"

"I'm sorry for your chair," Kira muttered. Looking as though she had just ate something foul, she added, "Will you please help me as well?"

"Why should he bother," Calypso said patronizingly. "You're not worth his time."

"If you help me, I'll help you Potter, " Kira said, speaking directly to Harry and ignoring Calypso entirely. "Viktor tells me Spell Creation is still your worst subject, and you'll only fall further behind unless someone actually takes the time to help you. And you know Professor Cherny won't bother with a second year."

"I can help him," Calypso interjected. "He doesn't need you."

Kira sent a haughty look at Calypso and snorted in derision. "It's quite simple Potter. Would you rather learn from someone who's just slightly above average in your class or someone who's one of the best at the subject two years ahead of you? I can get you caught up with the basics _and_ show you what you'll need for next year as well."

"Harry, please?" Viktor added. "Give her a chance."

"You'll help me whenever I have a question?" Harry clarified. "And once I get caught up, you'll continue working with me?"

Kira gave her boyfriend a very annoyed looked, but, seeing Viktor's nod, she said, "Fine. But don't expect me to hold your hand Potter! I'm not going to be doing your work for you."

Harry thought about it for a moment. While he wasn't in any immediate risk of failing Spell Creation, he was still in the bottom portion of the class. Begrudgingly, he admit that he could use some help, and Kira was one of the best in her year at the subject. "Alright, fine. You can work with us as well."

"Thank you Harry. Now, I've got to get to practice. Let me know when you want to start," Viktor said before pulling his girlfriend out of the room.

"What were you thinking?" Calypso snapped at Harry the second Viktor and Kira left the room. "Krum. Fine. He'll probably get bored of the work in a month and go back to chasing Snitches, but Megara? She treats both of us like shit!"

"I'm still behind in Spell Creation," Harry bit out, clearly unhappy. "I need help, and, as much as I dislike her, Kira is very good at the subject. With her help, I should be able to catch back up and maybe get ahead of everyone else by the end of the year. At the very least, I'll get some advice from her for my final project. Besides, if you're right, and she can't become an animagus, she'll probably give up soon anyway."

"It's not worth putting up with her," Calypso said irritably before an even darker look crossed her face. "Oh, Harry?"

"Yes?"

With a sharp upwards flick of Calypso's wand, Harry found himself hoisted up by his ankle and dangling in front of Calypso, his wand falling out of his hand to the floor. "I can protect myself from Megara!"

Harry looked at Calypso in shock. "What are you talking about?"

"She sent a lousy bruising spell at me, and I was looking forward to redirecting it right back into her smug little face when you cast that stupid shield charm." Calypso punctuated her point by flipping Harry so he was right-side up, yet still several feet in the air, and then casting a sticking charm on the nearest wall and sticking Harry to it.

"Calypso, get me down now!" Harry yelled.

"The Sticking Charm should wear off soon, Harry. I've never been that good with them. Have a good night." Calypso cast a silencing charm on the door before walking out of the room.

"Calypso!"

**ooo0000ooo**

**An Ominous Meeting **

**Durmstrang Library, Nov. 1** **st** **   
**

"Well, I think you've got it, Viktor. We can work on it a little bit later if you want, but I don't think we should push our luck casting spells in the library. Just remember that _intent_is all that really matters. Don't get caught up so much in the wand movements," Harry instructed.

Viktor nodded his head before successfully summoning his bag from besides their table. "Thank you again, Harry. Do you think Kosarev will really give us a quiz tomorrow?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders in an unconcerned manner. "I don't know. Considering that most the class wasn't able to do the Summoning charm, and this is the second week he's had to spend time answering questions about it, I wouldn't be surprised."

"What are you doing later tonight?" Viktor asked. "Want to work on that essay from Rosemburg on switching spells?"

"Sorry Viktor, I've already promised Calypso that we'd work on our project tonight," Harry replied. "Are you having problems with the essay or something? I thought it was pretty straight forward."

"No, not particularly. I just wasn't sure if you had done it yet..." Viktor trailed off as his face darkened and he sent a glare at someone over Harry's shoulder.

Turning around, Harry saw two older students had just entered the library. From the way Viktor was staring at one of them, Harry removed his wand and hoped that he wouldn't have to stop his friend from sending curses across the library.

"Who's that?" Harry asked.

"Deddrick."

"Err, okay," Harry said, uncertainly looking between the two students, "umm, who is that?"

"Deddrick," Viktor spat, "is the short blonde one. I despise him."

"Obvious," Harry joked. "You look like you're about to start firing curses. Why don't you like him?"

"Deddrick is a good student," Krum said begrudgingly before a slight smirk crossed his face, "but a poor Quidditch player. I beat him badly in a match during my first year, and he took exception to losing. After I caught the Snitch, he asked me to show him how I did the maneuver I used to beat him. When I went to help him after the match, he and his friends ambushed me while I was in the air. They cursed me and after I hit the ground, they left me lying unconscious on the Quidditch pitch. I was found a few hours later and had to spend a few days in the hospital wing."

Harry couldn't help but let his concern show. It had taken him a day to have his entire scapula replaced. Whatever happened to Viktor must have been pretty horrible to warrant an extended stay in the hospital wing.

"Since Deddrick is a year older than me, he and his friends took to randomly cursing me throughout my first year. They tried to keep at it during my second year, but I practiced dueling with my father over the summer to help in my Quidditch conditioning. When it became clear that I could fight back, he and his friends decided to take a different approach. One night I came back from a late practice to find my room completely trashed, and the next day Deddrick started the rumors that I was going to fail out of Durmstrang. I can't prove it, but I know Deddrick broke into my room and saw my first year grade report. I truly hate him."

"Is that one of his friends?" Harry gestured to a the tall brown haired boy standing next to Deddrick.

For the first time, Viktor glanced away from Deddrick and turned his attention to the student standing next to him. "No, that's his older brother Havard. He's a seventh year, and a very good duelist."

The older boy looked over, and Harry met his eyes for a moment. Havard then turned to his brother and whispered something to him. Deddrick quickly turned his head and a large grin appeared on his face as he started to walk over to their table.

"Well, well, well, look who we have here," Deddrick said, drawing the attention of several nearby students. "What are you doing in the library Krum? Surely you haven't passed enough classes to be allowed in here?"

Before Harry could so much as warn his friend, Viktor had stood up and had his wand pointed a few inches away from Deddrick's face. Harry sent a nervous glance at Havard, who had followed slightly behind his brother. Gripping his wand in his hand, Harry hoped that Viktor wouldn't cast a spell. Havard would no doubt defend his brother, and Harry did not want to get involved in a fight between upperclassmen, especially against a student who was known to be a good duelist.

"Mr. Krum, put your wand away at once!" Lady Doktor snapped, quickly making her way over to their table. Her wand was out, and she looked incensed that anyone would dare start a fight in the middle of her library.

When Viktor lowered his wand, Deddrick sent him a superior smirk. "Detention for you Krum," he whispered.

"Mr. Rowle, Mr. Krum, my office, now." Seeing the shocked look on Deddrick's face, Lady Doktor said, "Yes, the both of you. Right now."

Harry could only watch as Viktor and Deddrick followed the angry librarian towards her office. Sitting back down at the table, Harry took out a transfiguration book and waited for Viktor to come back. While he hoped Viktor wouldn't get in much trouble, Harry couldn't help but be slightly relieved at the librarian's timely intervention.

"Do you mind if I sit down Potter?"

Looking up from his book, Harry saw that Havard had not followed his brother and was standing on the other side of his table. Hoping that the older boy wasn't looking for a fight, Harry nodded his head.

Havard smiled and sat down in the chair directly across from Harry.

"I do hope your friend doesn't get detention for more than a day or two," Havard said, his German carrying a slight Scandinavian accent.

"Um, yeah, me too," Harry said uncomfortably. "Can I help you with something?"

Havard took out his wand and lazily cast a spell. "There, now we won't be overheard."

Despite his nerves, Harry asked, "What spell did you use? I've never heard of an area effect silencing charm."

"It's not," Havard replied. "The spell just causes anyone around us to hear a soft buzzing sound."

"Can you show me the wand movements?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"The incantation is _Muffliato_," Havard said before casually demonstrating the spell. "It's quite useful for keeping conversations private."

Harry made a note of the spell and the wand movement in a notebook before nervously saying, "So, um, what do you want to talk to me about?"

Havard's face darkened somewhat. "I'm here to warn you about Rosier. You should stay away from her Potter."

"What?" Harry asked. "Why?"

"Why else," the older boy said sarcastically. "She's giving her father information on your brother."

Harry shook his head in denial. "No, she wouldn't do that. Calypso never asks me anything about my brother."

"Well then she's trying to get information on your parents or you." Havard warned. "Listen to me Potter. I've seen her give reports about you and your family to her father, and I know she's researching your family. Everyone knows Mr. Rosier was a Death Eater, so I'm warning you, be careful."

"Calypso wouldn't do that," Harry hissed. "She's my friend!"

Havard simply snorted. "You know, for a supposedly smart kid, you're really fucking stupid."

Before Havard could say anything else, he turned his neck around and quickly canceled the spell he'd placed around them. A moment later, Viktor arrived with an angry looking Deddrick trailing a few feet behind him.

"Alright there, Harry?" Viktor said looking at Havard with distrust.

"Don't worry so much, Krum," Havard said dismissively as he stood up from his seat.

Viktor slowly walked around Havard and sat back down next to Harry.

"Potter," Havard said in farewell before walking out of the library with his brother.

"Why was Havard talking to you?" Viktor asked darkly.

"It was nothing," Harry lied tensely. "He showed me a spell and just waited for his brother to get back. What do you know about him?"

"A little, but not a whole lot. Most of what I know about him is rumor," Viktor admitted. "He is supposedly very good at Potions and the Dark Arts. He didn't threaten you did he? You could probably stop him from doing so pretty quickly if he did.

"Oh?" Harry asked. "How's that?"

"The Rowle family has always been close to the Rosiers. If you said something to Calypso, or maybe even Mr. Rosier, Havard and Deddrick would leave you alone."

"H-how close are his family to the Rosiers?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Very," Viktor said seriously. "Thorfinn Rowle was believed to be involved with the Dark Lord in Britain, just like Calypso's father. I believe your ministry even has a standing arrest order for Thorfinn, which is why his family moved away from Britain. What exactly did Havard say to you, Harry?"

"It was nothing, Viktor. Don't worry about it." Harry said, a bit of doubt creeping into the back of his mind.

"If you say so, Harry."

**ooo0000ooo**

**Main Hall, Nov. 15** **th**

"Nothing good can come from this," Harry muttered to himself as he put his brother's letter down on the table.

It seemed like once again his brother was involved in something that should just be left alone. The mythical Chamber of Secrets had allegedly been opened at Hogwarts, and the caretaker's cat had been the first victim. From what little Harry remembered about the legend, the Chamber was supposed to house some sort of weapon that only Salazar Slytherin or his heir could control.

While the news about the Chamber's potential opening was disturbing, it was Nathan's questions about Polyjuice Potion that had Harry really concerned. Nathan had no business even knowing about Polyjuice Potion, let alone asking questions about the best method of brewing it. Polyjuice was a N.E.W.T.- level potion, and the only reason Harry had even heard of it was because Calypso had asked Professor Rosemburg about using it to help with their Animagus practice. Rosemburg had said that Polyjuice only works with human hair, and if animal fur was used it could have dire repercussions.

Knowing that he was probably going to regret it, Harry took out a small piece of parchment.

_Nathan, _

_I don't have my copy of _ _ Hogwarts: A History _ _, but I do vaguely remember a bit about the Chamber of Secrets. Are you certain that it's not just some prank? Have there been any other attacks or anything? What do Mum and Dad think about all this?_

_As for Polyjuice Potion, yes, I know what it is, but why do you want to know about it? It's a very difficult, not to mention restricted, piece of magic. _

_I have no idea how to brew Polyjuice Potion. I could probably look it up in the library here, but I'm not going to tell you how to make it unless you tell me exactly why you want it. I doubt you'll be able to find a book describing how to make it since any book with the instructions would_ _ almost certainly be in the _ _Restricted Section. If you really want to know how to make it, I'll copy down the instructions and give it to you over Christmas, but only if you tell me what it's for. _

_Please be careful, _

_Harry _

**ooo0000ooo**

**The Warning Part 2 **

**Harry's Room, Nov. 20** **th**

"...and then she started to get desperate," Kira gloated. "I know because the little bitch started to send some really nasty spells at me. I narrowly dodge a compression hex when I saw my chance. Rosier was trying to keep me on the defensive, and I was able to hit her with a stunner before she could put up her shield. She dropped like a puppet with its strings cut off. You should have seen her face when her father rennervated her. Then when he complimented me and told her to stay after class, it was hilarious!"

"I knew you would beat her eventually," Viktor praised. "You've worked very hard this year in your Dark Arts class."

Harry nodded his head in agreement although he lacked Viktor's enthusiasm. If he knew Calypso, she would not be happy with losing to Kira in a duel, especially if her father was watching.

"Well, I think Rosier's rule as the top student in the Dark Arts is over," Kira said smugly. "It was only a matter of time, after all. I don't care how much her father crammed into her head before starting school, I'm a fourth year and she's just an ickle second year. It was bound to catch up with her."

"I'd be careful," Viktor warned. "Calypso isn't your average second year. She will want to get back at you."

"Now there's an understatement," Harry muttered as Kira continued to explain how she bested Calypso during the duel.

In retrospect, Harry was wishing he had told Viktor that he had been too busy to see his progress on the Animagus transformation today. Now, he was most likely going to have to put up with an angry Calypso and a gloating Kira in the same room. Certainly a recipe for disaster.

The door to his room burst open so suddenly that Harry drew his wand. When he looked up and saw the furious expression on Calypso's face, he put his wand away. "Hey, Calypso, I was just assessing Viktor's progress. I'd say he's almost caught up on the readings."

Completely ignoring Harry's greeting, Calypso stormed over to Kira. "You got lucky, Megara. It won't happen again."

Never one to back down, especially from Calypso, Kira stood up and returned Calypso's glare defiantly. "Did your daddy make you cry, Calypso? It looked like you were tearing up when I was leaving."

"My father made it clear to me that losing to someone from a family as pathetic as yours was unacceptable," Calypso spat viciously. "Not that he needed to bother telling me. What pureblood family doesn't know that the Megaras are the laughing stock of society. How your family has continued to find other purebloods to procreate with, I'll never know."

Drawing her wand, Kira looked hatefully at Calypso."You know, it took me a while to figure out how a pathetic little girl like you managed to beat everyone in class. It wasn't until my brother mentioned something in a letter earlier this year that I put it all together. You're nothing special, Rosier. Without your little trick you're an average duelist at best, and your father knows it."

"_Flagrate_," Calypso snarled viciously, sending a streak of fire at Kira, who dodged out of the way.

Instead of sending a curse back at Calypso, Kira crossed the small distance between them and tackled the smaller girl to the floor.

Before the fight could get out of hand, Harry and Viktor both cast _Expelliarmus_.

Harry's spell hit Calypso while Viktor's struck Kira. The two girls were thrown apart from one another and their wands flew into Harry and Viktor's outstretched hands. "Kira, Calypso get out! If you're going to fight, it is not going to be in my room," Harry demanded.

Without waiting for Kira or Calypso's response, Viktor stood up. "Kira, let's go," he said, practically dragging his girlfriend away from Calypso. Stopping at the door, Viktor turned and said, "I'm sorry about this, Harry. Can we pick up where we left off this weekend?"

"That's fine, Viktor," Harry replied tensely.

"You should watch your back around Rosier, Potter," Kira snarled from the doorway.

Without any hesitation, Viktor grabbed Kira's arm and pulled her from the room, the door slamming behind them.

"What was that supposed to mean?" Harry asked turning to Calypso, who was still glaring at the spot where Kira had previously been standing.

"Nothing," Calypso said, shaking with rage. "My wand?" she asked, sticking her hand out expectantly.

"Are you going to curse me like you did last time I stopped a fight between you and Kira?" Harry said, letting his own anger show.

"What do you think?" Calypso challenged.

While he didn't put his wand away, Harry handed Calypso her wand back. The second her wand was in her hand, Calypso turned around and stormed out of the room.

Harry cast a locking charm on the door and fell backwards onto his bed. Kira's parting statement about Calypso was repeating in his head.

'Watch your back around Rosier.'

What was going on? First it was Rowle warning him about Calypso, and now it was Kira. What did they know about her that he didn't, and how could he trust them to be telling the truth? Harry had never even met Rowle before that day outside the library, so who knew what reason he had for telling him Calypso was spying on him, or even if it was true. And Kira- well, Kira and Calypso shared a mutual hatred for one another, so he couldn't take anything she said about Calypso without a little bit of suspicion.

Still...two separate people both warning him about Calypso couldn't be a complete coincidence, could it?

**ooo0000ooo**

**The Talk**

**Boys' Ha** **llway, Dec. 3** **rd**

It had been a tense two weeks for Harry Potter and Viktor Krum. While Calypso had beaten Kira in their next Dark Arts class, it had been a close duel, and Kira had all but demanded a rematch, which Professor Rosier had promptly granted. Kira won the rematch, and Professor Rosier had declined his daughter's demand for yet another duel. Professor Rosier it seemed had had enough and said that they needed to practice against other opponents. Kira took that to mean that Professor Rosier was tired of seeing his daughter beaten, and made sure to remind Calypso of it at every opportunity. Naturally, that put Calypso in an almost perpetual bad mood.

Maybe it was because Calypso was upset, or perhaps it was because he was looking for inconsistencies in her behavior, but Harry had begun to suspect that Calypso was indeed digging for information about him.

He didn't have any real proof, but he started to notice the innocuous questions that she would push him to answer. Seemingly irrelevant things like, "Do you really think our Animagus forms reflect our personality?" would lead to pressing questions about what he thought his form would be. Harry couldn't put his finger on it, but Calypso was acting oddly, and there was only one person he felt he could get an honest answer from about it.

Knocking on Viktor's door, Harry contemplated whether he wasn't just looking for odd behavior from Calypso and it was really nothing.

After a minute of waiting for Viktor to open the door, Harry wondered if perhaps his friend wasn't out flying on his broom on the Quidditch pitch. Shrugging his shoulders, Harry cast a_l__ohomora_ on Viktor's door and walked inside.

He stopped before fully crossing the threshold into the room.

Viktor was on his bed with Kira laying on top of him, snogging him senseless. Their robes were haphazardly tossed in a corner of the small room, and Kira was wearing only her bra and knickers while Viktor was only in his boxers. Harry couldn't help but watch the two older students moan in each others mouths for a few moments before they noticed his presence.

"Potter!"

"Get out, Harry!"

Stumbling backwards out of the room, Harry just narrowly dodged a rather nasty green and yellow curse sent from Kira's wand at his head. Without thinking, he sprinted back to his own room and quickly closed the door.

Sitting in a chair, Harry couldn't get the image of a nearly naked Kira out of his mind. Her purple bra and panties left little to the imagination, and Harry couldn't stop the little smile that crossed his face.

He wasn't sure how long he sat in that chair thinking about Kira's purple knickers, but soon enough there was a loud and demanding banging on his door. With a wave of his wand he unlocked the door and an angry Kira and Viktor walked into his room. From the look on their faces, Harry was rather glad that neither had their wands pointed at him.

"What were you doing interrupting us, Potter, you little pervert!" Kira demanded.

"It was an accident, honestly," Harry said quickly. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to talk to Viktor."

"The door was locked," Viktor said, clearly upset.

"So?" Harry responded. "Your door is always locked. I just thought you were going for a fly, or studying, or–"

"The doorknob was red, Potter," Kira hissed. "I cast the charm myself!"

Confused, Harry just stared at Kira. "Um, what does that have to do with anything?"

Viktor sighed and rubbed his temples. He shot a look to Kira that said 'I told you so,' and took a seat on Harry's bed. "A red doorknob means the room is being used...by couples, Harry, and that they are not to be disturbed."

Harry blushed. "I—er—well, I mean, I didn't know. I'm sorry."

There was a very tense moment of silence before Viktor asked, "So what was so important that you needed to talk to me immediately?"

Fighting the blush on his face whenever he looked at Kira, Harry decided the ground was a very safe place to look at. "I- err, well, this will probably sound silly, but, umm, I want to know if you think Calypso might be... spying on me?"

When Viktor didn't immediately respond, Harry looked up and saw the look of deep contemplation on his friend's face. Kira, on the other hand, was smirking at Harry with a look of superiority on her face. "Of course she is. You're just now realizing it?"

"You mean it's true?" Harry gasped, looking to Viktor for confirmation.

"There are rumors," Viktor said, "but _no one_ knows for certain."

"What kind of rumors?" Harry pressed.

"It's just-well, many people suspect that Calypso is only friends with you because she wants to give her father information about your brother. It wouldn't be that surprising. Her father," Viktor scowled, "the entire Rosier family actually, is renown for their use of the dark arts throughout Europe. Your brother seemingly did the impossible in stopping a killing curse. It would make some sense if they were interested in how that was possible."

"But she's never so much as asked about Nathan," Harry argued, "and no one knows how Nathan survived the killing curse. Besides, I thought most people thought she was training me to be the next dark lord or some rubbish like that."

"A few still believe that," Kira confirmed. "But, I think that Rosier was the one who hit you with the bone-breaking curse last year."

"What!" Harry exclaimed. "But I didn't even meet her until a month after that."

"And what did you do after you were attacked? You were so freaked out that you started learning the dark arts, and then you didn't think twice about befriending someone like Rosier," Kira said seriously. "Had you been thinking rationally, you never would have gone anywhere near Rosier. She clearly attacked you that day to trick you into befriending her. Now, you had better run back to Hogwarts before she realizes that you've finally caught on to her plan. If you don't get away quickly, she might figure out that you know. If she tells her father that you know of her plan, it'll only be a matter of time before professor Rosier sneaks into your room in the middle of the night and –"

"Kira, that's enough," Viktor said sharply, seeing the look growing horror on his friend's face. "Harry, relax, Kira is messing with you. No one actually thinks Rosier attacked you. This isn't some mystery story on the wireless where some poor sap has his life manipulated by a secret society. If you believe that Calypso, at age twelve, was capable of that ridiculous level of manipulation, you might as well believe in soul bonds, magical cores, or that the American government is trying to blend muggle technology with magic."

Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and sent a hate filled glare a Kira, who simply smirked back at him. Shaking his head at the ridiculousness of Kira's theory, Harry asked, "Do you think she's spying on me, Viktor?"

Viktor shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know Harry. Last year, I do not believe so, but who's to say what her father actually thinks of you."

Harry had no response. He knew Calypso had told her father a bit about him during the summer, and, prior to his improvement in the Dark Arts, Calypso would constantly mention her father's opinion of him, so they obviously talked about him. But did that mean she was spying on him?

"Harry..." Viktor started unsure of what to say.

"Viktor," Kira said, placing a soft kiss behind his ear. "Let's leave Potter to his brooding."

With one last look at Harry, Viktor stood up and walked with Kira to the door. "Good luck, Harry."

"Thanks, I guess," Harry said uncertainly.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Girls' Hallway, Dec. 19** **th**

With less than an hour before his Portkey took him home for the holidays, Harry knocked on Calypso's door. The door opened slightly, and Harry pushed it open and walked inside. He didn't see Calypso anywhere. Checking his watch, Harry walked over to Calypso's desk and put her birthday present down. He had hoped to give her his present personally, but he wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to stick around.

After his talk with Viktor and Kira, Harry had spent some time thinking about Calypso, and he decided that they were just wrong. Viktor, Kira, and most the student body could think what they wanted, but he didn't believe Calypso was spying on him, it was ridiculous. If she was spying on him, she wouldn't have told him that she was talking about him with her father. Besides, there would have been no point in her father really wanting to know about _him_. He wasn't the boy-who-lived, and Calypso had never, not once, really pushed for information about Nathan or his family.

Checking his watch, again, Harry began wondering just where Calypso could be. It was unlike her to leave her door unlocked if she was going to be out of the room for a while. Looking down at his present, he smiled slightly. Calypso had told him last year that she always thought it was wonderful how the ancient wizards and witches like Merlin, Morgana, Hector, and Circe had their own personal spell-books, which consisted of their lifetime works. The necessity of personal spell books and family Grimoires fell out of practice shortly after the establishment of Hogwarts and other wizarding schools when knowledge became more available to the masses. Not to mention the entire publication industry that arose, making selling books a very profitable occupation.

For her birthday, Harry had bought a blank leather bound journal from Flourish and Blotts and paid an enchanter to protect the book from nearly all revealing charms and unlocking spells. It had cost him nearly six Galleons, but Harry felt it was money well spent. It was, after all, not just a birthday gift, but a Christmas gift as well.

Deciding that he probably would have to just leave the gift, Harry made to move the present someplace where she would see it when she walked in the room. Unfortunately, when he made to pick up the present, he knocked several pieces of parchment off of Calypso's desk. Bending down to pick them up, Harry's eyes drifted to a single piece of parchment with his name on the top of one of the papers.

Quickly glancing at the parchment, Harry saw what looked like a family tree with his name at the top and several of his ancestors stretching back several generations. Next to some of his ancestors' names were small scribbled notes. Under his grandfather's names was the word "Animagus", while other of his ancestors had "Seer", "Chief Warlock of Wizengamot", or "Order of Merlin" next to them. Below the family tree, Harry saw his name again and more scribbled notes. He was about to read the rest of the page when he heard the door open.

Putting the papers back on the desk, Harry turned just in time to see Calypso enter the room.

"Harry? What are you doing here? I thought you left?" she asked, clearly surprised.

Feeling the slightest bit apprehensive, Harry walked over and handed Calypso his small wrapped gift. "Harry birthday and happy Christmas."

Looking down at the small parcel and back up at Harry, Calypso asked, "Should I open it now or at Christmas?"

"It's up to you." Harry said hurriedly. "I'm running late. My parents are expecting me."

"Alright, I'll see you next term." As Harry made to leave the room Calypso called out, "Oh, Harry?"

"Yes?"

Calypso smiled brightly. "Happy Christmas, and thank you for the present."

"You're welcome," he said, leaving the room far more uncertain about Calypso than he had been before he entered.

Insider her room, Calypso carefully unwrapped the parcel Harry had given her. She removed the small book from the wrapping and couldn't keep the smile off her face as she ran her fingers over her name, which was etched in a flowing script on the cover. Opening the book, she read the small handwritten inscription from Harry on the first page.

After a few more minutes reading about her new personal spell-book, Calypso closed the book. Grinning to herself, she went over to her desk and found the piece of parchment with Harry's name on it. Dipping her quill in some ink, she scribbled yet another small note at the bottom of the page. Without a second thought, she carefully placed the parchment back into the drawer in her desk.


	9. Pushing Boundaries

**Durmstrang, (Jan. 11** **th** **)...**

It was an unhappy Harry Potter who returned to Durmstrang following the Christmas holiday. After finding out that Calypso had been looking up and recording information about both him and his family, Harry had gone home hoping for a very quiet and relaxing break. Instead, he found himself constantly at odds with Nathan, and his parents worried sick about what was happening at Hogwarts.

Not only had there been another attack, resulting in a Muggle-born Hufflepuff and a ghost having been Petrified by Slytherin's monster, but Nathan was the school's prime suspect to be the heir of Slytherin. Nathan, it seemed, had somehow managed to acquire the very rare and obscure talent of Parseltongue from the Dark Lord after Voldemort's killing curse failed.

According to Professor Dumbledore, who had personally taken the time to explain everything to Harry on the second day of the holiday, Nathan had discovered his Parseltongue ability while taking part in an extra-curricular dueling club run by Professors Snape and Lockhart, Hogwarts' newest Defense teacher. Draco Malfoy had Summoned a snake, and, after a mishap involving Professor Lockhart, Nathan had intervened to stop it from attacking the crowd. Unfortunately, the Muggle-born who Nathan had apparently stopped the snake from attacking was later victimized by Slytherin's monster, proving without a doubt to most the students that Nathan was the heir of Slytherin.

After Harry told Nathan that he didn't believe him to be a future Dark Lord because of some silly talent, it seemed like the holiday was going to bring the Potter family closer together than ever. All that had unraveled the moment that Harry decided it would be interesting to see Nathan talk to a snake. Nathan had promptly refused to ever use the talent, which Harry felt was completely ridiculous. There had been only six recorded Parseltongues in the last century, and very little was known about the ability besides rumor and conjecture. As far as Harry was concerned, his brother was wasting a rare magical talent by refusing to use it. Nathan, however, felt the ability was a disturbing connection between him and the Dark Lord, and he resented it.

The difference of opinion about Nathan's new talent was never resolved during the holiday. It was simply ignored when another, larger, argument took its place. After a heated argument between the two brothers, Harry had attempted to change the subject and informed Nathan that he copied the instructions for Polyjuice Potion. The only catch was that Harry wanted to know what his brother was planning to do with it before he handed over the instructions. This resulted in Nathan explaining Hermione's idea about sneaking into the Slytherin common room to find out what Malfoy knew about the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry had instantly argued against the plan, pointing out several places where Nathan could not only get expelled, but arrested, and he refused to give the Polyjuice Potion instructions to his brother. Much to Harry's annoyance,however, Nathan, Hermione, and Ron had somehow gotten their hands on a book from the Restricted section of Hogwarts' library, and the potion was now nearing completion. Hermione was, according to Nathan, staying at Hogwarts over the break to ensure that it would be ready when they got back.

Nathan's desire to go through with the Polyjuice idea had led to the first ever duel between the two brothers. Harry had threatened to tell their parents about his brother's plan, and the two had ended up exchanging spells, which resulted in both boys getting grounded for the last week of the holiday. For Nathan that meant no Quidditch, while Harry had to do extra chores around the house.

Harry never did tell his parents about Nathan's idiotic plan to sneak into the Slytherin common room. After Nathan had hit him with a Jelly-Brain Jinx while he was reading in the library, Harry had decided to just let his brother get expelled for attacking another student and using their hair in Polyjuice.

For the first time ever, Harry wanted to leave home and go back to Durmstrang. In fact, the only reason Harry stayed the entire length of the holiday and didn't return to school early was his mother's promise to help him with his Charms and Potions final projects. It had taken a bit of convincing, but Harry had managed to demonstrate that he was good enough at Charms for his mother to teach him how to properly enchant an object.

While Harry wanted to build on his previous Charms project and enchant his room, he soon found that was unlikely to happen. Learning how to enchant was like going back to his first-ever Charms class and re-learning how to do everything. A charm to make a teacup dance was simple enough, but to enchant the same teacup to permanently dance required a lot more effort.

By the end of the break, Harry had succeeded in enchanting a small butterknife to repel water, but that was all. When he realized that he wouldn't be doing any large-scale enchantments to his room any time soon, Harry had decided to make his final project a single small object that had many enchantments on it. Since he already knew how to enchant a knife to repel water, he made a list of other enchantments he could add to a knife.

When he was younger, Harry had loved reading about medieval wizards who enchanted swords for Muggle knights, and he went back to those stories to find ideas. Eventually, Harry decided he would order a small dagger and enchant it to be unbreakable, repel water, and have lasting sharpness, with an added self-cleaning charm. If he could make it work, the dagger would be a very impressive final project, and would easily put him in the running for the mastery award for Charms again.

For his final project in Potions, Harry decided to taunt his brother a little. After looking at the instructions for Polyjuice Potion one night, Harry decided to take a chance at brewing the potion for his final project. While his mother had been initially skeptical of his ability to brew a N.E.W.T-level potion, Harry eventually won her over by pointing out that the most difficult part of the potion was making sure that the ingredients were picked at the right time, and that it did not require any complex stirring techniques or especially rare and expensive ingredients.

Harry had enjoyed sitting at the diner table as he talked about the potion with his parents while Nathan stewed. At one point near the end of the break, their mother had said how proud she was of Harry for trying to learn such a complicated brew at such a young age. Harry was almost certain that Nathan was going to blurt out that he too was making the potion, but he managed to hold his tongue and instead gave Harry the cold shoulder for the rest of the break.

Another thing Harry was upset about was that he didn't get a chance to ask his brother's advice about Calypso during the break. Between the constant arguments with Nathan, working on his final projects, and not wanting to reveal Calypso's identity to his parents, Harry managed to constantly find excuses to not bring up his friend's suspicious activities to anyone in his family. In retrospect, Harry knew he should have. If Calypso was making notes about his family, Harry knew his parents or uncles should have been informed.

**ooo0000ooo**

**A Very Happy Return**

**Harry's Room, Durmstrang Jan 11** **th**

Opening the door to his room, Harry looked at his already magically expanded room in surprise. In his rush to leave Durmstrang over the Christmas holidays, he had obviously forgotten to remove the expansion charm he placed upon his receptacle. The fact that the receptacle actually managed to continue working throughout the entire Christmas holidays was rather shocking and it gave Harry a great sense of accomplishment. Clearly, all the practice he did over the summer had paid off.

Placing his trunk at the foot of his bed, Harry went to his desk, removed his older receptacle, and placed it in his bag. After quickly inspecting his room, Harry didn't think anything would be irreparably damaged in case the receptacle were to fail suddenly, resulting in the space expansion charm being canceled. Walking back outside Harry made his way back down the boy's hallway and down the main staircase. Once on the second floor, he quickly found his way to Professor Kosarev's office and knocked patiently on the door.

"Come." The sharp voice of Kosarev commanded, prompting Harry to turn the handle and open the door.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," Kosarev said pleasantly, a smile gracing his face. "Welcome back. I trust you had a pleasant holiday?"

Stepping forward and closing the door behind him, Harry couldn't help but marvel at his professor's office. The room almost felt alive with the amount of magic that was actively taking place. Just slightly to the right of Kosarev's desk, two enchanted suits of armor were casually sitting in chairs playing a game of wizards chess as an enchanted train flew around the room. As soon as he entered the room, a plush chair seemed to move of its own accord away from the wall and situated itself directly in front of the professor's desk.

Sitting in the chair, Harry looked up when the flying train's horn blew, and his eyes immediately drifted to a new addition to the room. Floating around an impressive chandelier in the center of the professor's vaulted ceiling was a startling rendition of the solar system. At first glance Harry thought the planets were simply stationary, but as he continued to watch them, he noticed they were in fact moving very slowly.

"I see you're fond of my latest enchantment," Kosarev commented lightly. "It took quite a while to figure out how to make the planets mimic their actual counterparts rotation and movements around the sun, but, fortunately, I found myself with some free time over the holiday."

Reminding himself that he was in the professor's office for a reason, Harry forcibly turned his eyes away from the impressive enchantment. "Well, sir, I just returned from England, and it appears I forgot to remove the space enhancement spell from my receptacle before I left Durmstrang in December."

"Ah," Kosarev said knowingly, "and what is the damage to your room?"

"Actually, none sir," Harry said, a slight smile on his face. "The receptacle managed last throughout the entire holiday."

Slightly surprised, Kosarev asked, "Do you have the receptacle with you by any chance?"

"I do sir." Harry reached into his bag, carefully removed the quill, and placed it on Kosarev's desk.

Kosarev held the quill in his hand, looking intently at the object. After a few moments, he said, "I would say this receptacle will last another eight to ten days Mr. Potter. Still, this is a most impressive improvement."

"How do you do that?" Harry asked curiously

The Charms Professor simply raised a curious eyebrow, inviting his student to elaborate.

"How do you always know how much magic is left in the receptacle? You're always so accurate. The revealing spell my mother taught me will only show in vague terms how much magic an object contains."

"Yes, Specialis Revelio can be a most frustrating spell. Oh, it has its uses I suppose, but it's not exactly ideal."

"So, what is it that you do?" Harry pressed. "What spell is it?"

"Harry, there is so much more to magic than spells and incantations," Kosarev said authoritatively. "If you learn nothing more from me at your time at Durmstrang, remember that. What I do is magic at a much deeper level. You see, a truly talented wizard can reach out with their senses and feel the lingering hints of magic. With enough practice, they can interpret and manipulate these traces in a number of ways. So while I held your receptacle, I did my best to sense the magic that emanated from the object. From my familiarity with how to create a receptacle, I can give you a fairly actuate estimate of how long your spell will remain intact."

"That's incredible," Harry said in awe. "I've never even heard of magic like that. When will we learn how to sense magic? Is there a book on it that I should consider reading first?"

"Harry, your enthusiasm is, as always, refreshing." Kosarev chuckled. "Unfortunately, I will not be teaching you this magic." Before Harry could open his mouth to protest, Kosarev held up a hand, indicating he was not done speaking. "This is magic far beyond what we expect even our seventh years to accomplish this type of magic, Harry. It does not belong to any specific field, and there is no real book, wand movement, or potion that can help you learn it."

"So how did _you_ learn it?" Harry asked.

"Perhaps I am explaining this wrong. This isn't an ability that is learned, Harry, yet it's not a magical talent, like a Seer's clairvoyance. I believe anyone can achieve this connection with magic, if only they push themselves to discover it. It is, of course, still quite difficult to achieve, and it requires the ability to clearly discern one's own magic, as well as the experience to understand and command various types of magic at a high level. Tell me, Harry, what do both of those requirement have in common?"

Taken slightly aback, Harry said, "Err, I'm not exactly sure, sir."

"Time, Harry," Kosarev provided. "It takes time. Time that often goes well beyond the seven years of training at a magical school. Did you know, Harry, that it used to be traditional for exceptional wizards to not take jobs after they graduate?"

"No," Harry said, slightly surprised. "Why not?"

"It was seen as a waste of their talent. Why should a student with great potential be forced into a menial job in government. Why, even an Auror or Healer program would be too restrictive. One hundred years ago, it was common place for the top students of the day to ignore work and go travel instead. It was expected that the best would want to see the magical cultures of other nations, to seek out forgotten lore or uncommon magic. Only after they spent time abroad would the person come home and seek a job or a family."

"So...what changed?" Harry asked curiously.

Kosarev scowled. "The Ministries grew tired of watching the best and brightest leave. There was always the chance that the witch or wizard might not ever return from their travels. Should they settle in another country, the ministry would lose the benefits of his or her talent. Of course the subsequent rise of Grindelwald didn't help matters. Everyone knew Grindelwald traveled extensively following his expulsion from Durmstrang. It is now commonly believed that during his travels Grindelwald searched for rare dark knowledge and crafted his plans for domination. Since then, traveling abroad for 'self study' has had a somewhat negative connotation."

"Oh," Harry said, frowning somewhat. "So I won't be learning how to sense magic anytime soon then."

Laughing slightly, Kosarev said, "You are a long way away from such magic Harry, but, if you continue improving, it is certainly not out of your reach."

"When do you think I'll be ready?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"I will make you a deal Harry. You are on pace to finish your Charms class at the end of your fifth year. Typically, students who finish a classearly are tasked with a period of self study to continue expanding their knowledge of the class. Should you actually manage to complete your Charms classes early, I will do my best to teach you how to sense magic. As I said, I don't believe the magic can be taught, but I will do my best to guide you. Now, not to push you out, but I do have some last minute lesson plan adjustments I need to make."

"I understand. Thank you sir," Harry said, placing his old receptacle back in his bag and leaving the room.

As he walked down the boys' hallway towards his room, Harry decided to drop by and visit with Viktor before the feast. Reaching his friend's door, Harry was about to twist the doorknob and walk inside when he remembered to double checked the doorknob's color. Seeing that it wasn't red, he opened the door and casually walked inside the room, only to be treated to the sight of Kira viciously snogging Viktor against a wall. Fortunately, this time they were both fully clothed.

Harry's rather un-masculine 'eep' when he saw the two alerted Kira and Viktor to his presence.

Before Kira could so much as say a word, Harry blurted out, "It wasn't red. I checked!"

This seemed to give Kira a moment's pause as she leveled her wand at him. "They say once is an accident, Potter."

"And twice is still just a coincidence," Viktor reminded his temperamental girlfriend as he guided her wand back down to her side.

Kira growled as she pocketed her wand. "Fine. But the next time you interrupt us, Potter..."

"Err," Harry said uncomfortably, "I could come back, or rather, I'll see you at the feast, Viktor."

"Don't bother leaving Potter, the mood is ruined," Kira grumbled. "Viktor, you need to learn some better locking charms."

"Actually the door was unlocked," Harry said before immediately falling silent under Kira's rather pointed glare.

Viktor laughed. "Well, to be fair, Kira, you did spring the snogging on me rather suddenly."

"Suddenly!" she exclaimed. "You tell me that you're going to be starting for the Bulgarian National team and I'm, what? Supposed to just say congratulations and shake your hand? You should have expected the snog of your life."

"You're going to be starting for Bulgaria! How? When did this happen?" Harry asked quickly.

Viktor gestured to an open chair, inviting Harry to sit down. "Well, each national team squad is only allowed to keep one Seeker on their roster. It's a rule that was put in place to make the game fair. If a team has great Chasers or Beaters, but a lousy Seeker, they can aim to knock out the opponent's Seeker and not have to worry about losing because of the Snitch. Well, Bulgaria's Seeker was knocked out during a World Cup qualifying game against Romania over the break. At first they thought it was a slightly damaged lumbar vertebra, which would have kept him out for only a week or two. After they got him to the hospital, though, it turned out that there was some major muscle degeneration and ligament damage around his spine, and if he was to take another Bludger to the back, he would likely be paralyzed."

"And you're going to taking his spot," Harry said in astonishment. "What about that Peja guy? You said the coaches liked him more than you, and he should be fully recovered from when you plowed him during the summer."

"Ah, yes, Peja. Well, it seems that dear Peja is still recovering from the emotional trauma of smashing headfirst into the pitch at full speed. He is scared to push his broom to its limits, and he refuses to dive for the Snitch. The coaches had to make a decision. It was either take me, or reshuffle the entire lineup and move one of the team's Chasers to Seeker. After I beat the Chaser to the Snitch seven straight times in my tryout, the coaches all agreed that Bulgaria would have a better chance of winning with me as Seeker."

"Wow, congratulations, Viktor. When is your first game, and how are you going to be getting to practice?"

"My first game will be against Germany in a little over a month, and the Highmaster has been kind enough to give me a reusable Portkey, which will let me bypass Durmstrang's wards to get to practice," Viktor explained with a huge smile on his face.

"Have you told anyone else?"

"Just me," Kira said, wrapping her arm around Viktor possessively, "and you saw what my reaction to the news was."

Harry blushed. "Um, yeah, it was..."

"Enthusiastic?" Viktor offered with a grin.

"Exactly," Harry agreed immediately.

"Well, as much fun as this is, I should be leaving to get changed for the feast. I'll be back in a little while, Viktor," Kira said, planting a kiss on his mouth before departing his room.

"I really don't get her," Harry said shaking his head.

"Who? Kira?"

"Yeah, one minute she's civil and the next she's sending a curse at me."

"She's just passionate. Plus, she's a girl," Viktor said as if that explained everything. When he saw the confusion on Harry's face, Viktor smiled. "You'll learn someday that girls can be rather prone to mood swings."

Harry looked at his friend in confusion before giving up and shrugging his shoulders "If you say so, Viktor."

"Trust me, Harry," Viktor smirked. "The benefits of a good girlfriend far outweigh any negative aspects. Now, speaking of girls, what have you decided to do about Calypso?"

"I honestly have no idea what I'm going to do," Harry muttered. "My Christmas was bad enough without thinking about Calypso."

"What happened?"

"I really don't want to talk about it right now Viktor," Harry said exasperatedly. "As far as Calypso goes, I know she's taking notes on me and my family, but I can't figure out why. If it was just stuff about me or my brother, then I'd be more concerned, but I don't understand why she would be interested in why my great-great uncle won the Order of Merlin for Research in experimental charms."

"It is strange," Viktor agreed. "Obviously, you could confront her about it, but you still don't know why Calypso is looking at parts of your family history, and it could easily turn out to be nothing. Of course, another option would be for you to simply stop being friends with her–"

"No," Harry said before hesitantly adding, "It's like you said, I don't know what she's doing. It could be nothing."

Viktor looked less than pleased at his friend's adamant refusal. "Very well. I suppose you should simply act as normal as possible when around her then, but keep your guard up. I suppose it all depends on if you think you can trust her, Harry."

"Do you think I can trust her?"

"I think you've shown a great deal of trust in her thus far, Harry. The decision is yours and yours alone," Viktor said firmly. "I won't tell you what to do here, but if it were me...no. I would not trust her."

"I'm going to trust her...at least until I can get some answers."

**ooo0000ooo**

**A Challenge Accepted**  
**Main Hall, Jan. 25** **th**

Calypso and Harry took a seat at their usual table for lunch in the Main Hall. While Harry had done his best to act normally around Calypso, it was a constant struggle not to demand an answer from her about the parchment in her room.

"I can't believe you're really going to try to brew Polyjuice Potion for your final project," Calypso said, sounding impressed. "I didn't even know you were researching it."

"Yeah, ever since you mentioned it as something to use for our Animagus study I've been thinking about it," Harry lied.

Calypso gave him an odd look before smiling slightly. "What did Professor Kral say when you told him?"

"He was skeptical that it could be done by a second year, but he did say that if I pulled it off I would be getting the Master award for his third year class. He gave me a private lab usually reserved for upper class students working on long term brews and warned me not to damage the room. I'm actually hoping I can finish the Potion in the next month or two so I can turn my project in early. I don't want to have to worry about running back and adding an ingredient to the potion while I'm trying to make sure all my other projects are done at the end of the year."

"I wonder what the record for Mastery awards in a single year is," Calypso pondered.

"It's five," Viktor said, announcing his arrival with a slight scowl, "Grindelwald achieved it in his fifth year."

There was a pause before Calypso said, "You should try to beat it, Harry."

Harry choked on a piece of ham and looked incredulously at Calypso. "Calypso, that record has been standing for almost a century."

"So? I think you can do it. If you can make the Polyjuice, that will earn you the mastery for Potions. Didn't you say your mother started teaching you how to enchant this Christmas?"

Harry nodded, slightly confused as to when he mentioned that to Calypso. "Err, yeah, I want to do a multiple enchantment for my charms project. I managed to enchant a butter-knife to be water proof over the break. I thought expanding on that would be interesting."

Calypso and Viktor shared a look of disbelief. "So you're actually working on a _multiple_ enchantment? There is no way anyone is going to beat that project. I have an idea for what you could do for your Dark Arts project. It would definitely impress my father enough to get you the Mastery award. What are you planning on doing for Transfiguration, Herbology, and Spell Creation?"

"Err, well for Herbology I was just going to harvest the ingredients for Polyjuice. It's not amazing, but Professor Guiles said he would pass me if I could gather all the ingredients myself and the potion was brewed correctly. I have an interesting idea for Spell Creation, but I'm probably going to need some help making it work," Harry admitted.

"Kira will help you with that," Victor said with a gleam in his eyes. "Now, what will you be doing for Transfiguration?"

Harry rubbed his temples in frustration. From the look on Calypso and Viktor's faces, they were serious about this. "I don't know what I'm going to do for Transfiguration, and before you say it, no, there is no way I'm going to be able to do the Animagus transformation by the end of term."

"What have you been working on the most this year in Transfiguration?" Calypso asked.

"Mostly Inanimate to Animate transfiguring," Viktor answered, cutting Harry off and speaking directly to Calypso. "It is a lot of turning pillows into Porcupines. We are also supposed to spend a lot of time focusing on more advanced Switching Spells this term."

"Any chance you could do a large-scale Inanimate to Animate transfiguration? Maybe turn your desk into a large animal?" Calypso asked.

"No way," Harry said sharply. "if I messed up that kind of spell..."

"Alright, if we can find a good transfiguration project for you, that would give you the Master rank in Charms, Potions, Dark Arts, Spell Creation, and Transfiguration," Calypso pointed out. "You'd be tied with Grindelwald. Can you not think of a more advanced Herbology project?"

"He doesn't have to have a more advanced Herbology project." A large grin spread across Viktor's face. "You are forgetting a subject, Rosier."

"What?"

"History. The top scorer on the final exam is given the rank of Master. If Harry can get the top score, that will give him six Master rankings."

Calypso smiled. "Well, Harry, I hope you didn't plan on joining any clubs or playing Quidditch this term because you're going to be rather busy."

**ooo0000ooo**

**Harry's Room, Feb. 1** **st**

_Dear Harry, _

_You were right. Polyjuice was a bad idea. _

_Nathan_

Harry had been staring at the short missive from his brother for the last five minutes, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts about what could have happened. He hadn't gotten a letter from his mother or father telling him that Nathan was going to be suspended, expelled, or arrested, so clearly Nathan wasn't in too much trouble.

Dipping his quill in some ink, Harry prepared a letter, wondering just what Nathan and his friends had done now.

**ooo0000ooo**

**The Meeting **

**Professor Rosier's Office, Feb 13** **th**

The soft knocking on his door caused Romulus Rosier to look up from the small stack of essays on his desk. With a casual flick of his wand, the door opened and Calypso stepped into the room. "Take a seat." Romulus easily conjured a somewhat uncomfortable looking straight back chair directly in front of his desk. He then waved his wand at the stack of essays, causing them them to fly into an open desk door.

"You wanted to speak with me father?" Calypso asked.

To anyone else the question would have sounded respectful and calm, but Romulus caught the slight hint of apprehension in his daughter's voice. "Tell me Calypso, how is your research into the Potter family coming along?"

"Very well," she said, sounding more confident before faltering somewhat, "do you want to see everything now?"

Romulus narrowed his eyes, easily sensing his daughter's discomfort. "No, I'm merely interested in seeing what you've uncovered about Nathan Potter."

"Nathan Potter is the Boy Who Liv–"

Calypso immediately stopped when she found her voice silenced. Looking up at her father, she saw him looking at her with a mix of annoyance and amusement. "When I ask you for information, I am not asking for what everyone already knows Calypso." Removing the silencing charm, Romulus said, "Now, try again."

"Harry doesn't like to talk about is brother," Calypso said hesitantly. "I know that his brother's fame was somewhat involved in his transferring to Durmstrang, so I've done my best not to press Harry about him."

"Surely, you have something," Romulus said patronizingly.

"His brother was involved with something recently at Hogwarts. I'm not sure what, but I overheard Harry muttering about idiots and questioning what his brother was thinking."

"Magical abilities?" Romulus prompted.

"None that I'm aware of. He survived the killing curse, but besides that–"

Romulus slammed his fist down on his desk, an angry expression now on his face. "None! None at all?" Reaching into his robes, he withdrew a letter and said, "From your uncle Lucius: As I'm sure you are aware by now, Nathan Potter has revealed himself to be a parseltongue." Calypso's eyes widened. Dropping the letter on his desk, Romulus reached into a drawer and pulled out a old copy of the Daily Prophet. Calypso physically winced at the headline proclaiming Nathan Potter a parselmouth.

"I-I–"

"I do not want to hear excuses," Romulus said calmly, his tone underlying the withering glare he was giving his daughter. "I should not be finding out information about Nathan Potter from your uncle Lucius. Nor should I need it confirmed by a back issue of this rag of a newspaper. This rather colossal failure on your part makes me question whether you're even taking this seriously."

"No," Calypso said hurriedly, "no, father I am. I swear it. I-I'm just focusing more on Harry than his brother. Even uncle Lucius said Nathan Potter has so far shown to be of no real talent."

"I'm growing tired of this Calypso. You've made your position quite clear in the past. Now I find that you're not even doing a good job at this. I expect better daughter. From now on, I want updates twice a month until the end of the term, and I suggest you find out why your _friend_ didn't care to mention that his brother possesses one of the rarest magical talents in the wizarding world."

"Yes father." Calypso said, an unreadable expression on her face.

"Dismissed."

**ooo0000ooo**

**Testing 1,2,3**

**Kira's Room, March 4** **th**

"I swear, Potter, this is the last time I help you," Kira snapped. "I don't care how much Viktor begs, it's just not worth it!"

Ignoring Kira's complaining, Harry looked at the large piece of parchment in front of him. All over the page were scribbled notes and theories about Harry's Spell Creation project. "I think it should work this time."

"That's what you said last time, and the time before that."

"Well, maybe, if you would help instead of just pointing out things I was doing wrong and making fun of me, I would have finished it sooner," Harry argued.

"Excuse me? This is your project, Potter! I'm helping you out of the goodness of my heart!"

Harry didn't believe that for a minute. Kira was only _helping_ because of their deal with the Animagus transformation.

"The mistake was thinking we could just increase the brightness of the _lumos_ spell," Harry said, making a few notes at the bottom of the parchment. "Instead we should have looked at other amplification spells like _sonorus_ and work backwards from that."

"Which is what I said a month ago," Kira pointed out.

"Fine. You were right. Happy?" Harry asked, starting to get annoyed at Kira's attitude. If she wasn't one of the best students at spell creation in the school, Harry would have stopped asking for her advice a long time ago.

"Yes, now let's see it."

Drawing his wand, Harry started the movement for a simple _lumos_, but incorporated an upward slash and ended up pointing his wand straight up before saying, "_Caecus_."

Instead of a small light appearing from the tip of his wand, a blinding flash of white light encompassed the entire room for a brief moment before vanishing a second later. Kira screamed and fell to the ground rubbing her eyes. Harry stumbled backwards, blinded by his own spell.

"Potter, you idiot! I can't see!"

"Neither can I," Harry said, shocked that the spell had worked so well. He had learned the blindness curse in his Dark Arts class just prior to the end of the fall term, and he couldn't help but think that there had to be an easier way to blind your opponent than hitting them with a curse. That's when the idea came to him to increase the power of the lumos charm to disable your opponent. What had started out as a simple idea had ballooned into a much more difficult project when he realized that the lighting charm couldn't generate the amount of power to temporarily incapacitate anyone. After going to Kira for help, he had finally succeeded in creating the spell.

Unfortunately, it appeared that a side effect of casting the spell was that it blinded both the caster and the opponent. Harry would have to remember to close his eyes when using this spell in a duel. Still, it was a good way to throw your opponent off. Since it wasn't a curse, jinx, or hex, the spell couldn't be blocked by a shield or dodged, forcing your opponent to almost certainly suffer temporary blindness.

After almost a minute of seeing only white spots, Harry's vision slowly began to come back. The first thing he saw was Kira angrily pointing her wand at him from across the room. Her eyes were bloodshot and tears were flowing down her face. A silent _stupefy_ from Kira's wand caused Harry to leap out of the way.

"Get out! Get out now!" Kira snarled, sending another curse and forcing Harry out of her room.

**ooo0000ooo**

**A Legend Is Born**

**Harry's Room, March 7** **th**

Harry tuned his wizard wireless radio to the correct station, and waited impatiently for the broadcast to start. Viktor would be playing in his first ever National team game tonight in Berlin against the heavily favored Germans. Viktor had explained how his team needed to win two out of their last three games to clinch a second place finish behind the Germans, and qualify for the World Cup. Unfortunately, the last three games were against some of the top teams in central and eastern Europe, all of who were chomping at the bit to usurp the Bulgarians' second place spot. After the first place Germans, the Bulgarians would play at home against the Lithuanians, and finish up on the road against the Poles, who were currently in third place.

The international Quidditch community had all but dismissed Bulgaria's chances to make it to the World Cup, regardless of the fact that they were still narrowly holding onto their second place spot. Losing their starting Seeker and replacing him with a sixteen year old boy, who was still in school and had only played in five Junior National league matches, was seen as a sign that the Bulgarian coaching squad was admitting defeat. Harry had tried to show his support of Viktor by placing a small five-Galleon wager with Gringotts Prague. He had later found out that because of the heavy betting on Germany, the Goblins had given him 15-1 odds against Viktor catching the snitch and the Bulgarians winning.

"And we now switch you over to our friends in Berlin, who will tonight attempt to clinch a first place finish in Group B of the European World Cup Qualifier against the decimated Bulgarian squad! Romp those Bulgarians boys! _Haut sie weg_!" The German radio host shouted enthusiastically as the station switched over to the match.

While the wireless was capable of picking up the Bulgarian broadcast of the match, Harry didn't speak Bulgarian, and so was stuck listening to the German broadcast. Viktor had offered to teach him the most common Bulgarian dialect of Balgàrtski, and Harry was contemplating learning it just so that he could listen to his friend's matches.

"Welcome, Quidditch fans," an enthusiastic voice shouted, "to tonight's match between Germany and Bulgaria! I'm your announcer, Hans Klein, and with me in the booth, as always, is the legendary German Beater Marcus Werden. Marcus! It's good to see you again my friend."

"You as well, Hans."

"Now Marcus, correct me if I'm wrong, but tonight's match seems to have lost a bit of its luster. What should have been the meeting of the top two teams in this group is now considered by everyone to be an easy victory for the Germans."

"You're not wrong there, Hans. The Bulgarians are in some serious trouble. Alonzo Lom's retirement due to injury has left the Bulgarians reliant upon a sixteen year old boy to carry them into the World Cup. After looking at Bulgaria's remaining schedule, I just don't see that happening. The Poles and the Lithuanians are both top-notch squads, and, well, I don't think I need to tell you that this German team is especially dangerous."

"Oh no, you certainly don't, Marcus. Herrmann is playing at the absolute top of his game, and the rest of the squad hasn't been too shabby either."

"Not too shabby? That's an understatement if I've ever heard one. Our Beaters are first in Bludger connections, while our Chasers are second in the group in scoring. This German squad is without a doubt poised for a deep run in the World Cup!"

Harry heard the door to his room open, and he turned to see Calypso walking in carrying a book.

"Listening to Krum's match?"

"Yeah, it doesn't sound like anyone is giving Bulgaria much of a chance."

"I heard you placed a bet with the Goblins. Do you really think Viktor is going to win?" Calypso asked curiously.

Harry shrugged. "It was only a few galleons, and I certainly hope that Viktor wins. Besides, I think it did Viktor some good to know that someone believed he could win. Even his own country's media have been denouncing the move to put him at Seeker. They all think the coaches have given up on winning the cup, and are just looking to give Viktor some experience at the highest level."

"Well, how would you feel if England decided to put a fifth-year Hogwarts student on their national team squad?"

"Point taken," Harry conceded.

"And it appears like the referee is ready to start the match!" Marcus Werden said excitedly, drawing Harry and Calypso's conversation to a close.

"For those of you Bulgarian fans, you have my sympathies," Hans chuckled. "Just looking at the tiny figure of the Bulgarian Seeker...what's the boy's name again, Marcus?"

"Krupt? No, Krum."

"Yes, well. While the young man has a decent build for a Seeker, he is still just a boy. I do hope the Bulgarian's aren't ruining a good young talent by throwing him to the wolves too early. It's always a shame when that happens."

"Agreed, Marcus. And it looks like the referee is done talking to the captains, and, yes, the Snitch and Bludgers have been released! The Quaffle is in the air as well, and the players are off! The Quaffle is immediately taken by the Bulgarian Chaser Dimitrov. He passes to fellow Chaser Levski, who does an inverted sloth grip roll to narrowly avoid a Bludger. Leviski passes to… intercepted by Schlussel, and the Germans are countering.

"Schlussel to Vogel, Vogel passes back to Schlussel. Schlussell shoots! And it's saved by Bulgarian Keeper Zograf, who passes the Quaffle off to Ivanova."

"A good solid start to the match with both Chaser teams testing each other," Marcus pointed out. "However, unless the Bulgarian Chasers are somehow able to take over this game, I just don't see them having a chance at winning."

"Very true, but oh, my! What are the Seekers doing? Ladies and gentlemen, both Seekers have entered into a steep dive! I think they've seen the Snitch! Herrmann is using his superior size to shield the Bulgarian Seeker, but Krum has managed to pull alongside him! They both have their hands extended... and the Snitch changes directions! Krum executes a perfect corkscrew reverse and… I don't believe it! Krum catches the snitch in the third minute! Bulgaria wins 150 to nil."

"YES!" Harry jumped up and pumped his fist. "He did it! I knew he could win!"

"Unbelievable," Calypso said, shaking her head. "So how much money did you just make?"

Harry's eyes widened. "Err… wow."

"That much, huh?" Calypso smirked. "I'd write a letter to the Goblins if I were you. Have them put the money in a new vault at Gringotts Prague. Unless you _want_ your parents to find out that you've been gambling?"

Harry nodded his head and started writing out a note to Gringotts Prague with instructions to open a new vault and place his winnings inside it.

"Oh, Harry?"

"Yes?"

"I've got an idea for your transfiguration project."

"Really?" Harry asked interestedly.

"I know you said that you won't be able to use the Animagus transformation," Calypso said, "but you've gotten pretty good at self-transfiguration this year. What if you–"

"Calypso," Harry interrupted, "if you're suggesting I try transfiguring myself or someone else, it's not going to happen."

"Why not?" Calypso protested. "You're able to transfigure large appendages almost perfectly. The last time we practiced, I didn't feel any hint of pain when you transfigured both my arms. The fact that you've managed to do some self-transfiguration as well is amazing! If I'm lucky, I'll be able to try transfiguring my hand by the end of term!"

"Honestly Calypso, I might be able to do a pretty interesting human transfiguration project." Before Calypso could say anything, Harry continued, "But only if I dedicated every spare moment to transfiguration. I'm still working on my Charms project, my Polyjuice Potion isn't done, and you know how far I still need to go on my Dark Arts project. If I'm actually going to have a shot at beating Grindelwald, I can't focus all my attention on transfiguration."

"Well do you have any ideas?" Calypso asked. "You need to start working on something!"

Harry looked conflicted for a moment as he glanced over at his desk.

"You do!" Calypso said excitedly. "I can tell. Well, what is it Harry?"

"It's nothing," Harry said evasively. "Just an idea that came to me after something Rosemburg said about switching spells."

"Well let's hear it," Calypso pressed.

"Alright, you're going to think it sounds crazy, but..."

**ooo0000ooo**

**How to make a Bider **

**Durmstrang, March 22** **nd**

"And you're sure that this wouldn't be illegal?" Harry asked. "Did you double check the ban on experimental breeding?"

"Stop second guessing yourself Harry," Calypso said impatiently. "Your idea is brilliant and you aren't breeding anything, so it's not against the law."

Harry grinned and looked down at the creatures he and Calypso had spent the last few days catching on the Durmstrang grounds. After he had explained his plan, Calypso had refused to let him ignore the idea. After double checking every source he could find, and, with his friend pushing him to experiment, Harry's curiosity about what would happen eventually got the better of him.

His idea was a direct challenge to one of the longest standing rules governing switching spells. Everyone, from the greatest master of transfiguration to the stupidest third year student, knew that switching spells between living and nonliving things didn't work, it was one of the first things that was taught about them. Professor Rosemburg explained it as nonliving objects lacking a certain 'spark of life,' which resulted in switching spells between living and nonliving objects not being possible.

While Harry believed that the rule was fundamentally correct, he remembered during his first year how a botched enchantment had turned one of the first floor storage closets into a mouth, which attempted to eat everything inside of it. The closet wasn't alive, but it certainly had living properties, such as the desire for food. For Harry, that raised an interesting question. If something had a property of being alive, was it actually alive?

In order to test that, he had done his best to remember exactly what he did wrong when first casting the enchantment on the closet. Eventually, he was able to successfully mess up an enchantment on his pillow, causing it to try and eat anyone who laid their head on it. His plan was to transfigure the pillow into a small animal, and then use switching spells to switch the limbs from living animals with the transfigured animal. According to all literature, a transfigured animal from a nonliving object was still considered a nonliving object, and so a switching spell between the two creatures shouldn't work.

After carefully searching in the library, Harry and Calypso discovered that no one had ever tried to purposefully botch an enchantment, transfigure the result, and then test it against switching spells, though they could easily understand why. Enchanting was a difficult skill to master, and as you grew more experienced at it, you trained yourself to instinctively avoid those kind of dangerous mistakes. No experienced enchanter would ever think of purposefully screwing up an enchantment, especially not to to test it against a rock solid transfiguration theory.

Since there was no literature about what would happen, Harry felt that if he could somehow demonstrate it was possible to use a switching spell between living and nonliving things, Rosemburg would award him the Master rank for pioneering a new discovery in Transfiguration.

"Alright, turn the pillow into a rabbit," Calypso said, clearly excited about what was about to happen.

Harry cast the spell, and a moment later the pillow had become a small fluffy white rabbit.

"What do you think we should do now?"

"Let's start small," Harry said. "We'll switch the rabbit's two large front teeth with the snake's two fangs."

Calypso levitated the petrified snake they had caught the day before next to the rabbit, and Harry cast an _im__mobolus_ charm on the rabbit to stop it from running away from a perceived threat. Not knowing what to expect, Harry performed a textbook switching spell on the rabbit and snake's teeth. The large front teeth of the white bunny were instantly replaced by the two sharp fangs of the Milos Viper.

"It worked!" Calypso said excitedly. "I wonder what would happen if you turned the rabbit back into a pillow right now?"

"I don't know." Harry had considered doing just that after he saw the switching spell worked, but something else had caught his attention. "Does the rabbit seem different to you?"

"You mean besides the two fangs?"

"Yes," Harry said slowly, "it seems more... menacing."

"It does have fangs now, Potter, of course it's going to look more menacing," Calypso replied. "Now, try to switch something else. Let's see if a transfigured animal can have multiple limbs switched with a living creature."

"Okay," Harry said, switching the rabbit's four legs with the eight legs of a small wolf spider. Harry then cast an engorgement charm on the legs so they could easily support the weight of a rabbit.

"That's really disturbing," Harry said looking at the small rabbit/spider/snake.

"I don't know what's stranger to look at, a rabbit with spider legs or a spider with rabbit legs. I wonder if the rabbit can actually use the new limbs? Let's unfreeze it and find out."

"Calypso, I don't think that's a good ide–"

"_Finite_."

Harry watched as the bastardized creature was released from the_ Im__mobolus_ charm and immediately charged at Calypso. The creature opened its mouth, exposing the fangs dripping with viper venom. Calypso immediately cast a severing curse, but the strange magical construct dodged out of the way and quickly began climbing one of the walls.

"Kill it," Harry snapped as the creature hissed at them from the wall.

"That is not how a rabbit is supposed to act," Calypso commented as the creature began angrily circling them on the wall and ceiling.

Before the creature could decide to attack again, Harry cast the counter-transfiguration, causing the rabbit's body to be replaced by a white fluffy pillow. Much to Harry's astonishment though, the spider's legs continued to move the white pillow body with two protruding fangs around the room.

"Have you ever seen anything like that?" Calypso asked in disbelief.

"No," Harry said in astonishment. "But it sort of makes sense. A transfigured animal takes on the characteristics of the creature you transfigure it into, and by switching parts of different animals..."

"We gave the transfigured rabbit the instincts of both a spider and a snake, which overpowered the instincts of the rabbit," Calypso realized. "But... how is it still alive?"

Harry glanced down at the two animals they had used as test subjects. The spider seemed to be spasming in agony as its legs had been replaced with a fluffy piece of pillow. The snake's eyes had glazed over, having choked to death, when the rabbit's teeth had gone back to being part of the pillow. Hearing two soft drops, Harry turned around and saw that the viper's teeth had fallen off the pillow and landed on the floor. "Calypso, kill the spider." Harry said curiously.

Pointing her wand at the struggling wolf spider, Calypso cast another severing curse, splitting it down the middle. Almost immediately, the spider legs on the pillow fell off.

"That's very interesting," Harry muttered. "The switching spell left the spider and snake instincts, even after I transfigured the rabbit back to a pillow, but once the living animals died..."

"The switched body parts of them died as well." Calypso paused before a smile crossed her face. "Harry this is incredible, you just defied one of the longest standing laws of magic! We have to show this to Professor Rosemburg."

"Oh yeah, we should definitely do that," Harry said.

Calypso smirked as she helped Harry gather his notes before leaving the room.

**ooo0000ooo**

**A Brother's Plea **

**Main Hall, April 15** **th**

Calypso had been absolutely right about Rosemburg, but even she had underestimated their professor's reaction to Harry's discovery. After explaining what he had done, and repeating it for the professor, Rosemburg had absolutely flipped. Rosemburg had dragged Harry into a staff meeting where he had Harry demonstrate the discovery yet again. It had been a little disconcerting for Harry to see the shocked expressions on several of the Durmstrang faculty members' faces. The Highmaster himself praised Harry's ingenuity, and Rosemburg had begun writing an article to publish Harry's discovery in _Transfiguration Today_, the largest and most respected Transfiguration magazine in Europe.

Rosemburg's announcement in the staff lounge had only been the tip of the iceberg for Harry. A few days later he had turned in his perfect Polyjuice potion to Professor Kral, and had once again found himself to be the subject of an inordinate amount of praise. When Professor Kosarev jokingly said that he hoped Harry wasn't ignoring his Charms class for Potions and Transfigruation, Harry had explained his enchanting project and the progress he had made on it. The Charms professor had immediately written him a note excusing him from Transfiguration, and dragged Harry into his office and had him show him his progress. Two hours later, Kosarev could be found in the staff lounge praising Harry's ability at Charms and calling him a one in a million talent.

Of course, the real shock to the professors came after Viktor let slip that Harry was seriously attempting to break Grindelwald's record for the most Master ranks in a single year. According to Calypso, who learned it from her father, the faculty at Durmstrang were seriously discussing the possibility of Harry achieving six Master ranks. Even Professor Cherny, the typically standoffish Spell-Creation professor, had asked Harry to wait after class one day to ask about his final project. Harry presented his blinding spell to Professor Cherny, who agreed that it was an interesting, if self-limiting, dueling technique, and that he would have a chance at the Master award depending upon the projects his peers designed.

With Calypso assuring her father that Harry would have an amazing Dark Arts project for him, a lot of professors began to seriously believe that Harry had a chance to best Grindelwald's ninety-seven year academic record. Professor Cristof, Durmstrang's History teacher, knowing that Harry would need to place first on her final exam to get the illusive sixth Master rank, created an early study guide for him, hoping to help the young student surpass Grindelwald.

"When is your next match, Viktor?" Harry asked.

"We play Lithuania on the 12th of May.. They are a good team, but as long as our beaters can keep their chasers off-balance, we should easily win. I've been watching Pensieve memories of their Seeker after practice, and he is dependent on the same two or three moves. I've spent most my time at practice learning how to counter him. We should win and clinch a spot in the World Cup without having to worry about the Poles, which is a good thing as their Seeker is much better."

"So you're telling me I should place another bet on Bulgaria to win, and for you to catch the Snitch." Harry laughed. It wasn't a secret that Harry had probably been the only person to actually bet on Bulgaria and Viktor to win against Germany. Most of the school had been rather envious after they had heard how much money he had made off such a small bet. The Goblins had also not been happy, and Harry figured that for Bulgaria's next game the odds were likely to be less outlandish.

"Yes, Harry, I think a bet on Bulgaria is always a smart decision," Viktor agreed as an owl entered the Hall and immediately landed near Harry.

"A letter from home?" Viktor asked.

"No, my parents have always liked snow owls. This is your standard Hogwarts barn owl, so this is probably from my brother."

_Harry, _

_I need your help. Hermione has been attacked by Slytherin's monster and has been p_ _et_ _rified! I know we haven't been getting along great right now, but I don't know who else to turn to for help. _

_Dumbledore has been removed as Headmaster by the Board of Governors, and Mum and Dad are totally freaking out. McGonagall has been named temporary Headmistress, but there have been all these rumors about the school closing. _

_Harry, Mum and Dad are considering withdrawing me from Hogwarts. They're worried that I might be attacked next by whatever it is that got Hermione. Dad wrote me a letter saying that Dumbledore was going to be having a talk with them about me staying at Hogwarts for the time being, and that they'll decided if I can stay at Hogwarts after they talk with him._

_Do you have any idea what the monster in the Chamber of Secrets might be? It can petrify anything, including ghosts! I can't think of anything that coul_ _d affect a gho_ _st, they're already dead after all. _

_Can you please look in the Durmstrang_ _ library for _ _any magic that ca_ _n petrif_ _y things? Ron and I are looking through the Hogwarts library, but you're always saying how Durmstrang's library is better because you don't have a restricted section. Please help Harry. _

_Nathan_

"Viktor, I've got to go to the library," Harry said.

"Why? Is everything alright?"

"No, my brother's friend was attacked at Hogwarts by some creature that has the power to petrify."

Viktor looked confused. "Petrification? There are many creatures and spells that can do that."

"I know, but whatever is attacking students can petrify anything, Viktor, including ghosts."

"That... should not be possible."

Harry nodded his head. "I know, but there is something at Hogwarts that has attacked and petrified a ghost."

"Did your brother tell you anything else?" Viktor asked.

Harry re-read the letter and shook his head. "No, just that his friend Hermione had been petrified, and that my parents are considering removing him from school."

"Then before you go tearing the library apart looking for any creature or spell that can petrify someone, you should write your brother and ask for more information."

**ooo0000ooo**

**What Ever Doesn't Kill You **

**Harry's Room, May 1** **st**

Harry stood in the center of his room, all of his furniture, books, and personal effects had been shrunk and moved to a single corner in order to minimize the damage that his Dark Arts project might cause. Standing ten feet away from him was Calypso, who, without warning, cast a Jelly-Brain Jinx.

Just as the spell was about to hit him, Harry whipped his wand across his body, smacking the jinx away from him and into the nearest wall, leaving only a slight scorch mark against the stone.

For the next twenty minutes, Calypso began steadily increasing the dangerous nature of the spells she sent at Harry. Simple jinxes soon gave way to hexes, which eventually led to minor curses. In order to give Harry an easier time deflecting the curses, Calypso had taken to speaking all the incantations out loud. While she was positive her father would cast each spell non-verbally, she was more interested in giving Harry practice at deflecting spells rather than simply cursing him senseless.

In order to gain the rank of Master for his third year Dark Arts class, Calypso had been teaching Harry a technique that she knew her father thought was very important, deflection. While standard hex and jinx deflection were introduced at the start of fourth year, curse deflection wasn't introduced until fifth year, and many were never able to master it. Deflection, like shielding, was one of the most important techniques to learn if one was going to go far in dueling.

While shields were used to block unfriendly curses, for the majority of hexes and jinxes, a shield was simply overkill. Deflection allowed a wizard or witch the means to avoid unfriendly spells that were not powerful enough to require a shield. It also took away the burden of learning hundreds of counter-jinxes and counter-hexes. It wasn't necessary to remember the exact counter to the Jelly-Legs Jinx if you could harmlessly redirect the spell away from you.

Even though the magic required in deflection was somewhat advanced, there was a very simple reason for why deflection was introduced to older students and why still many failed to learn it properly. Deflecting a spell meant staring down an oncoming jinx, hex, or curse until the spell was quite literally an arms length away. Only then could one strike out and redirect the spell away. In the face of an oncoming spell, many people froze up or reverted to casting a shield. Fear and uncertainty in their own ability was what ultimately handicapped many wizards and witches.

While deflection was typically used with jinxes and hexes, it was possible to deflect a curse, which was what Harry was desperately trying to learn how to do. Unfortunately, deflecting a curse was much more difficult than a jinx or hex. Curses, by definition, were a malicious piece of magic, intended to harm or disable another person. The intent behind a curse was so much greater that deflecting a curse required both excellent timing and a great amount of mental willpower. Even if you perfectly timed your deflecting of a curse, if you weren't properly focused, the curse would simply overpower the person trying to deflect it.

When Calypso had first demonstrated curse deflection to Harry, he had been surprised at how determined she had looked. When Harry had sent the body-bind curse at her, he had been amazed at how Calypso had stared down the curse until it was only a few feet away from her. Then, at the last possible second, she smacked the spell away with the tip of her wand.

"_Confundo_," Calypso snapped.

Harry watched as the swirling pink spell raced towards his chest. At the last moment, he brought his wand across his body only to slightly miss the spell, which sent him to his knees. Harry tried to stand up only to pitch forward onto the ground. Why couldn't he stand up? He wanted to stand up. Maybe he was standing up. Yes, staying on the ground was the same as standing. That made perfect sense. "I'm ready for the next spell, Calypso." Harry called out from the ground waving his wand in a dramatic fashion.

"I'm sure. Just hold still, Harry." Calypso said walking over and applying the counter-curse.

The strange feeling left him, and Harry looked up to see Calypso smirking at him. The memory of trying to block the Confundus curse hit him, and Harry blushed. "I think I've embarrassed myself enough for today. Let's pick this up tomorrow."

"You're getting better," Calypso said.

"But am I doing good enough to get the top spot in Dark Arts?"

"No, not yet, but you've got a month, and I'll be working with you every day."

"You just enjoy cursing me," Harry said with a wry grin.

Calypso laughed. "True. That certainly makes helping you more entertaining."

As Calypso began packing up her things, a sharp tapping could be heard against one of Harry's windows. Looking outside, Calypso saw a small barn owl flapping its wings, waiting to be let into the room. With a flick of her wand, the window popped open and the small bird flew inside and landed on Harry's shoulder.

After removing the letter from the bird's leg and watching it fly away, Harry quickly opened the letter and began to read.

Calypso watched curiously as Harry's face scrunched up in annoyance the further he read. When he reached the end of the letter, he shook his head in derision, crumpled the letter up into a ball, and tossed it into his rubbish bin.

"Trouble?" Calypso asked, picking up his discarded letter.

"No, it's just a letter from my brother. There have been some problems at Hogwarts this year, and my brother's friend was petrified."

"Ah," Calypso said knowingly, "the chamber of secrets."

Harry's head snapped up. "How do you know about that?"

"You do realize that you're not the only person who knows someone at Hogwarts, right?" Calypso said sarcastically. "My cousin Draco wrote me a while back talking about how I was clearly missing out by being at Durmstrang."

"So, do you have any ideas what the monster might be?" Harry asked hopefully.

"It could be anything from a Gorgon to a clutching Fire Salamander," Calypso said indifferently. "There are hundreds of different ways to go about petrifying someone, and who's to say it's actually a monster and not just some student practicing dark magic?"

"But the legend–"

"Could be a load of hippogriff shit." Calypso finished before an annoyed look crossed her face. "Oh, by the way, why didn't you tell me your brother was a parselmouth ?"

Harry swallowed nervously and bit back his initial response of 'because I don't know if I can trust you.' Instead he bitterly said, "I really didn't want to talk about my stupid brother."

Calypso looked at Harry in surprise. That was the first time she had ever heard him actually insult his brother and seem to mean it. "What do you mean?"

"When I found out that Nathan was a parselmouth over the Christmas break, I was really excited." Harry said patiently. "I thought it was the coolest thing in the world. My brother had one of the rarest abilities in the world. There's practically nothing written about parselmouths , and I couldn't wait to see what he could do with the ability."

"So, what happened?" Calypso asked, curious.

"Well, at first, everything was fine. Nathan was obviously glad I didn't think he was the second coming of the dark lord." Harry's eyes narrowed in anger. "But when I asked him to show me the ability, to actually see what limitations it had, he refused."

Calypso arched her eyebrow. "Limitations? I'm pretty sure the only thing the ability grants is the power to speak with snakes."

"Yes, but is that all it can do?" Harry pressed. "The only other parselmouth in recent memory was the dark lord. For all we know, parseltongue isn't just the ability to talk to snakes, but command them. Since snakes don't have ears, there's obviously a magical component to the language. Who knows what kind of power or control a parselmouth might have over snakes."

"I suppose you're right," Calypso conceded. "I take it your brother didn't want to experiment with the ability?"

Harry snorted. "That's an understatement. He kept going on and on about how everyone thought he was a dark wizard. I basically told him to practice or else he was wasting a rare talent."

"Did he eventually practice?"

"Of course not," Harry said bitterly. "I tried to push him towards practicing, but it didn't really work out the way I planned."

"What did you do?" Calypso smirked.

"I may have put a few conjured snakes in his room," Harry admitted, slightly embarrassed. "It wasn't my best plan, and Nathan ended up getting bit by one of them. How he let a snake sneak up on him when he can hear the bloody things talk, I'll never know. Still, he freaked out, and I got into a bit of trouble. Fortunately, none of the snakes were venomous."

"I take it your brother didn't appreciate your help?" Calypso asked between laughs.

"No. He tried to hex me if you can believe it." Harry looked slightly smug. "Naturally he was the one that ended up getting hexed."

**ooo0000ooo**

**A Friendship Fallen?**

**Calypso's Room, May 12** **th**

"...Krum pulls up...HE HAS THE SNITCH! Bulgaria wins 310 to 190! Bulgaria goes to the World Cup!"

Harry cheered as Calypso stood up and turned off the wireless. "I knew he could do it," he said happily.

"I suppose if Krum is going to waste most of his time playing Quidditch at least he is good at it," Calypso replied.

"You're just upset that you didn't place a bet with the Goblins when I offered."

Calypso sniffed imperiously. "Betting is for peasants, Potter."

"Well this peasant, just made fifty more Galleons," Harry taunted.

"And what are you going to do with your new-found wealth?" Calypso asked. "Buy a broom and ask Viktor for flying lessons like the rest of the school?"

Harry rolled his eyes. After Viktor's stunning victory over the Germans, many of the people who had previously called him an idiot had started to worship the ground he walked on. Viktor, of course, found the sudden change of attitude by most of his peers to be utterly pathetic, and he did his best to ignore the majority of the student population. Kira, however, was not ignoring the sudden urge by most of the girls at the school to date the resident Quidditch superstar. She had made it well known that any attempt to poach _her_ boyfriend would be met with very hostile force, and she demonstrated her point by cursing a fifth year, who was loudly talking about buying some love potions to slip to Viktor. Harry could only imagine what Viktor's latest victory on the international stage would do to his reputation.

"I'll be sure to ask Viktor to book my flying lesson right after yours. I know how much you love Quidditch, Calypso."

"Oh, yes, of course," Calypso said sarcastically. "My dreams are filled with Snitches."

Harry paused. "Is it weird that my brother's dreams probably _are_ filled with Snitches?"

"Yes, and speaking of your brother, how is he?"

"Miserable," Harry said bluntly. "It looks like Hogwarts is going to close any day now."

Calypso smirked. "Think he'll end up coming to Durmstrang next year?"

"Nathan? At Durmstrang?" Harry laughed. "No way. Beauxbatons maybe. Not that I would blame him for choosing to go to a school that actually accepts Veela."

"Are you saying that there aren't pretty girls here?" Calypso asked challengingly. "Because I certainly know someone who would love to hex you for saying something like that."

"Hmm..." Harry said pretending to think very hard. "Gorgeous Veela, or angry witches that like to curse me... decisions, decisions."

"Prat," Calypso said, firing a stinging hex at Harry.

Without thinking, Harry deflected the incoming spell right into Calypso's desk, causing parchment to go flying everywhere.

"Whoops," Harry said apologetically. "I'm sorry about that." He bent down to help Calypso pick up the scattered rolls when he saw a very familiar piece of parchment at his feat. Picking up the parchment with his name on it, Harry looked up and saw briefly saw Calypso's eyes widen before her face took on an eerie indifference.

"'Harry James Potter, born July 31st 1980. Brother of the Boy Who Lived, Nathan Potter. Transferred to Durmstrang from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry demonstrates a unique ability to command magic, specifically Transfiguration and Charms. He has well above average knowledge in Potions; however, he possesses a reluctance to use the Dark Arts." Looking up from the parchment, Harry stared at his friend for a moment. "What the hell is this, Calypso?"

Calypso faltered slightly. "It's nothing Harry," she said as she casually tried to take the parchment from him.

Harry held the parchment out of her reach and tried to continue reading.

"_Accio__ p__archment_," Calypso said, summoning the parchment out of his hands.

"Calypso," Harry said angrily, "what is that!"

"It's nothing important."

"Then tell me what it is!"

When Calypso remained silent, Harry turned and stormed out of her room, slamming the door behind him.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Of Truths and Tests**

**Durmstrang, May 25** **th**

With a slight limp, Harry walked down the hallway to his bedroom, prepared to quickly pack his stuff and go home. He had just finished his History exam, and while he had certainly done well, he wasn't certain if it would be enough to get him the rank of Master. Professor Cristof's study guide had been a huge advantage, but while Harry could appreciate the importance of history, he would much rather work on a practical final project.

Of course, while Harry enjoyed practical work, he didn't love getting injured, which was just what had happened to him during his Dark Arts exam earlier in the day. He had explained his final project to Professor Rosier, and asked that the professor send an ever-increasing level of dangerous spells at him to deflect. Rather than opening with a jinx, Professor Rosier had opened with the Retching Hex, a spell with which Harry was intimately familiar from earlier in the year. After four more hexes, Professor Rosier began throwing curses. Simple leg-lockers and body- binds were quickly replaced by the Conjunctivitis and Babbling Curses. Harry managed well enough until Professor Rosier had sent a bone-breaking curse at him.

Caught momentarily off-guard by such a violent spell, Harry was too late in defending against it, causing the curse to break his right leg. Professor Rosier had called for Lady Shulga, who quickly cast a healing charm to mend the bones. Fortunately, it was a clean break and while there would be some bruising, Harry would be fine by the end of the day.

Harry had left the Dark Arts room confident that he had done well enough to get the rank of Master, and a little disappointed that the achievement really didn't mean that much to him anymore. It had been Calypso who had helped him practice for his Dark Arts exam while pushing him to try to usurp Grindelwald's academic record, and the two hadn't spoken since he had confronted her.

Viktor had been supportive of his decision, and, naturally, Kira had claimed that he was better off without Calypso. Not that Kira particularly cared how he felt, she just wanted to throw in into Calypso's face that she didn't have any friends. When Harry overheard Kira saying just that in the library, he had been tempted to go over and help Calypso. Ultimately, however, Harry decided that Calypso could be his friend whenever she wanted, all she needed to do is explain what she was doing.

Therefore, it was a bit of a surprise when Harry opened his door his room to find Calypso standing there waiting for him.

Removing his wand, Harry did his best to ignore her as he began shrinking his bed, removing the charms on his room, and packing his belongings. Calypso had come to see him, and if she had something to say, he wasn't going to drag it out of her. After almost ten minutes of continual charm work, Harry's room was back to its rather ordinary spartan appearance. Without acknowledging that Calypso had even been in the room, Harry picked up his trunk and started to walk out. When he opened the door, Calypso finally spoke up.

"You're angry."

Harry stopped and turned around, giving Calypso his attention for the first time since entering the room.

She licked her lips nervously. "I know you want to know what that piece of parchment was about."

Harry put his trunk down and sat on top of it. "Are finally ready to tell me?"

"No I –"

Quickly standing up, Harry shot Calypso an angry look and started to pick up his trunk and leave.

"Wait. Just wait, Harry," Calypso said, taking a step forward. "I can't tell you what it is because...well, it's complicated."

"Just tell me the truth, Calypso," Harry said simply.

"I know what it looks like," she said. "But I'm not trying to spy on you or your family. If you believe anything, please believe that. I've never asked you any questions about your brother besides what you've volunteered, and you know I could care less if he's the Boy Who Lived."

Seeing that Harry had stopped trying to pick up his trunk, Calypso relaxed somewhat. "That said, I can't tell you what that parchment is."

"Why not?" Harry demanded impatiently. "Just be honest with me."

"It's not about honesty, Harry, or even trust," she said softly. "I need you to learn something called Occlumency before I can tell you about the parchment."

"And what exactly is Occlumency?"

Calypso smiled. "Please, I know you, Harry. You'd rather find out yourself than be told anything."

"Calypso," Harry warned. "This isn't some silly school project, it's our friendship."

Sobering slightly and losing the slight smile on her face, Calypso nodded her head. "I know, Harry, I know. Occlumency is...well, it's hard to really describe. It's a very obscure branch of magic that deals with the mind. Now really, Harry, that's all I'm going to be able to tell you. If my father found out I've said as much as I have, he would be upset."

"Why? I don't understand."

"My father likes to test people," Calypso sighed. "You passed a major test with him earlier today by doing as well as you did on your final project. Congratulations, by the way. He said you managed to deflect six curses before he managed to hit you."

"Calypso, you're rambling. So your father wants me to learn Occlumency, and if I don't, you won't tell me why you're digging up information on me?"

"I am sorry, Harry. I know it sounds unfair, and I really do want to tell you what's going on, but it's important that you know Occlumency first," Calypso explained.

"And if I learn Occlumency, I will be?" Harry asked pointedly.

"Yes," Calypso said immediately. "Learn Occlumency, and I swear I will tell you everything you want to know. I'll even make an Unbreakable Vow if you want. We can go get my father or one of the other professors to be the binder."

"You're serious," Harry said in surprise. "You would actually make an Unbreakable Vow?"

"Yes."

Harry wasn't sure what to say. Agreeing to an Unbreakable Vow was not something to joke about.

"Please, Harry," she said. "Just promise me you'll try to learn some Occlumency this summer."

"Fine," Harry relented, picking up his belongings.

"Thank you," she said, placing a small kiss on his cheek.

Harry looked at her awkwardly, not sure what to make of everything. "Right, err, I guess, I'll be off then."

"I'll see you next year, Harry."

"Yeah. Goodbye, Calypso."

Calypso watched as Harry walked out of the room. A moment later, her father appeared beside her. "You think he'll manage it?"

"I do," Calypso said certainly before her face darkened. "This is it, right? All Harry needs to do is learn Occlumency?"

In response, Romulus simply placed his invisibility cloak back on and walked out of the room.


	10. Summer of the Mind

**Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts, May 29** **th**

It was late. Past one in the morning, but no one would know that from the large group that had congregated in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts.

"Where is Nathan now?" Lily asked nervously.

"On the Headmaster's orders, I gave Nathan and Ron a light sleeping potion, and let them return to Gryffindor tower. Ms. Weasley however, will be spending some time in the infirmary," Madam Pomfrey explained. Seeing the look of distress forming on Molly Weasley's face, she added, "Ginny's stay in the hospital wing is purely precautionary, Molly. There is no reason to suspect that she is still being possessed."

If he hadn't just watched Nathan's memory of the Chamber of Secrets in Professor Dumbledore's Pensieve, Harry wouldn't have believed his brother capable of it. Slaying a basilisk at the age of twelve was impossible! Yet, somehow, Nathan had managed it with some help from Fawkes, the Headmaster's phoenix.

Harry had been terrified when he heard his mother scream in the middle of the night. Not knowing what to expect, he grabbed his wand and quickly rushed downstairs. He found his parents about to depart to Hogwarts with Professor McGonagall, and he demanded to know what was going on. His father had briefly explained how Nathan had gone, along with Ron Weasley, into the legendary Chamber of Secrets and managed to save Ginny Weasley from the Heir of Slytherin. Harry was told to go back to bed, and that Sirius was coming over to watch him just in case.

His parents left through the floo with Professor McGonagall. Once they were gone, Harry had returned to his room and quickly changed out of his pajamas. He made it back downstairs just as Sirius arrived to Godric's Hallow. Sirius had tried to stop Harry from flooing to Hogwarts, but, as he wanted to know what was going on himself, Harry was eventually able to convince his godfather that they both had to find out what was happening.

Stumbling out of Professor Dumbledore's floo, Harry was met with several wands pointed at him. Before anyone could tell him to go home, however, Sirius stepped out of the floo, and everyone's ire shifted to the man who was supposed to have been keeping Harry _away_ from the floo. While his parents yelled at Sirius for letting Harry come to Hogwarts, Harry looked around the Headmaster's office. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were both present and appeared exhausted. Likewise, Professor McGonagall looked uncharacteristically tired and emotionally drained. Harry was surprised to see that Professor Dumbledore had retaken his position as Headmaster, and he greeted his pseudo-grandfather with a hug.

While Harry's parents both felt he should not be present for the meeting, Professor Dumbledore said it was unlikely that Nathan would keep such an adventure from his brother, and by showing him what happened, Harry would not pester Nathan for information about the incident. Lily and James eventually conceded, and Harry was allowed to stay and watch Nathan's memory of the Chamber of Secrets in Professor Dumbledore's Pensieve.

"Can I go talk to Nathan?" Harry asked once the memory ended.

"Harry, it's late," Lily said. "Your brother has been through a lot. Let him sleep."

"Speaking of sleep, I think you should get home as well." James said, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder. "You know Nathan's alright, and you saw what happened."

"Alright," Harry said, fighting back a yawn. "I just wanted to tell him I was proud of him."

Dumbledore smiled. "I will certainly pass the message on for you, Harry."

"Thank you, sir. I'm glad you're back at Hogwarts."

"As am I, Harry. I confess that the old castle has become my home, and I missed it terribly when I was away."

As Sirius led Harry back towards the Floo, Harry stopped and turned to Fawkes, who was watching the meeting with an air of detached interest. Harry approached the bird and pet its plumage. "Thank you for helping Nathan, Fawkes."

The phoenix let out a content chirp and fluttered over to land on Harry's shoulder. Fawkes rubbed his head against Harry, who continued to pet the bird.

"I think I might be jealous, Harry," Dumbledore chuckled cheerfully. "First Fawkes comes to Nathan's aid, and now he is sitting on your shoulder. James, Lily what exactly did you do to raise two incredible boys?"

Harry blushed as Fawkes let out a short amused thrill before flying back over to his perch.

"We kept both of them as far away from Sirius as we could," Lily joked.

"Oi," Sirius said indignantly, "Fawkes loves me! don't you Fawkes?"

Fawkes simply looked at Sirius with a bored expression on his face causing everyone in the room to laugh.

Harry was ready to go home when he noticed the large bookshelves next to Fawkes' perch, and an idea popped into his head. He hadn't had any luck finding information on Occlumency in his family's library. Although, if Calypso was to be believed, Occlumency was a form of mind magic, something that Harry had never even heard of, let alone seen a reference to in his family's small library. Professor Dumbledore, on the other hand, was the smartest person Harry knew. Surely, he had heard of it!

"Professor Dumbledore, can I ask you a question before I leave?"

"Harry," James said, exasperated. "You need to go home. It's way past your bedtime, and your mother, the Weasleys, and I still have a lot of things to discuss with Albus."

"Now now, James, it's alright," Dumbledore placated. "Harry, you may ask me one question, but then you need to be getting home. It is, as your father said, quite late."

"Have you ever heard of a magic called Occlumency?" Harry asked. "I've been looking for it in our library since I got home, but I can't seem to find anything about it."

Albus was unable to hide his surprise at the question. "Harry, why are you looking for information about Occlumency? And for that matter, how did you learn of it?"

"A friend of mine at Durmstrang suggested I study it. She said it was a form of mind magic I might be interested in learning," Harry said evasively. "But I can't find any reference to it in our library."

"No," Albus said after a moment. "I would not expect for any information on Occlumency to be in your family's library, Harry. The few books that there are on Occlumency are coveted by many private collectors and magical governments alike."

"Do you know Occlumency, sir? Or do you have a book I could borrow that talks about it?" Harry asked hopefully. "I swear I'll take very good care of it."

Dumbledore hesitated for only a moment before saying, "I do know Occlumency, Harry, as does Professor Snape; however, I am sorry to say that I do not posses a book on the subject."

"Oh," Harry said dejectedly. "Well, thank you anyway, sir."

"It's quite alright, Harry. I do hope you have a pleasant summer," Dumbledore said as Sirius ushered Harry over to the floo.

**ooo0000ooo**

**The Arrangement **

**Godric's Hallow, June 15** **th**

Nathan's return from Hogwarts was met with a small party at Godric's Hallow. The tension that had plagued Nathan and Harry during the Christmas holidays was completely gone. While Harry and Nathan still disagreed about Nathan's ability to speak Parseltongue, the two brothers had made a silent agreement to never bring up the subject. Both brothers came to a shared understanding that they would never be able to convince the other of their point and felt that the argument just wasn't worth making anymore.

With cordiality reestablished between the two brothers, Harry explained to Nathan a lot of what he had been up to at Durmstrang. While Nathan admitted that he didn't fully understand why Harry was so excited about his Transfiguration final project, even he couldn't help but be impressed and excited by his brother's attempt to break Grindelwald's academic record. Nathan also agreed to help his brother's search for some reference to Occlumency in the Potter family library.

Nathan's willingness to help lasted all of three days before he called it a lost cause as Professor Dumbledore predicted.

Harry, however, outright refused to give up looking for information on the elusive skill, and spent an ever increasing number of hours in the library, something that began to worry his parents. In the short time since Nathan had returned from Hogwarts, Harry had often lost track of time in the library, needing to be reminded to come to meals, and dragged out of the library by his father or mother to go to bed. His father had even gone so far as to ban him from the library one day after he found Harry fast asleep with his face in a book, having not gone to bed the night before.

When pressed about why he was so interested in Occlumency, Harry always responded that the idea of mind magic greatly interested him. He was evasive to any other questions, a fact both Lily and James were quick to pick up on. After Lily's offer of summer Potions lessons were refused by Harry in lieu of spending more time in the library, she decided enough was enough.

"Harry, exactly why is learning about Occlumency so important to you?" she asked sternly.

Harry was saved from answered immediately though when an imperial great horned owl swooped into the room and landed in front of him.

_Harry, _

_I am happy that your brother is good. A Basilisk is a strong creature, so I am happy he was hurt not. _

_For your question, I asked, and my match with Poland is not be broadcast by British Wizard Wireless Network. You will have to read in paper about my Quidditch victory! _

_I will say that we play hard against Poland, and I try to catch the snitch. Poland is good team, and I need practice against good teams for World Cup. I know I beat Poland Seeker to snitch, so if you place bet again, bet for me to catch snitch! _

_I hope all is good with you. _

_Viktor_

_P.S. How is my English writing? I have been working hard at it. _

Laughing slightly, Harry put Viktor's letter down. After Viktor had taught him the main dialect used in Bulgaria, Harry had offered to repay his friend by teaching him English. Viktor had agreed, but they hadn't been able to practice for very long before the end of the semester. Viktor, while not having as bad a retention rate as Harry, was still on the lower end of the spectrum for the language charm, resulting in his rather fragmented understanding of English.

"Something funny, Harry?" Lily asked curiously.

"Oh, it's just a letter from my friend," Harry smiled. "Here, read it. I've been trying to teach him English with the language charm, but we weren't able to work on it for very long before the semester ended."

Lily took the offered letter and frowned at the poor grammar and obvious lack of understanding of the language. When she got to the end of the letter, her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Harry," she said, "what does your friend mean about placing a bet again?"

"Um..."

"Harry James Potter, have you been gambling?" Lily demanded.

"I-well, sort of, but not really..."

"It is a yes or no answer, young man," Lily said sharply. "Do I need to call your father in here, or are you going to tell me the truth?"

"Okay, yes," Harry admitted. "But before you get upset. It was only ten galleons at first, and I only did it to help a friend."

Lily looked dubiously at her son. "Explain."

"My friend Viktor was on Bulgaria's junior national team when there was an injury to Bulgaria's starting seeker," Harry explained. "The Bulgarian Seeker had to retire because of the injury, and Viktor was selected to replace him. Bulgaria's home media thought the coaches were giving up on making a run to the World Cup, and just giving Viktor some experience at the highest level. No one believed that he would be able to compete against wizards and witches decades older than him. I placed a small wager with the Goblins in Prague to show Viktor that I supported him and thought he could win."

"So it was only the one time?" Lily clarified, softening her tone somewhat.

Harry shuffled his feet and looked down at the ground. "Um, well, Viktor's played two games, so I bet both times."

"Harry, this ends now," Lily said sternly. "How much money have you lost to the goblins?"

"None. I won. Viktor caught the snitch in both games," Harry said brightly.

Lily sighed. This had just become more difficult. It would be easy to convince Harry that gambling was wrong if he had lost money, but winning made it harder to see the consequences of gambling. "Exactly how much did you win, Harry?"

Harry mumbled a number looking uncomfortable.

"Speak up, Harry," Lily chided.

"I said I've almost made over one hundred galleons."

"Harry, look at me," Lily demanded, causing her son to quickly look up. "You've only bet two times?"

"Yes," Harry said, nodding his head. "The first time Viktor played, the odds against him catching the snitch and Bulgaria winning were 15-1. My five galleon bet turned into 75 galleons, and the next match, the goblins gave me 5-1 odds against Viktor catching the snitch and Bulgaria winning and..."

"I get the picture, Harry," Lily sighed. This was not good. Her son had made a lot of money gambling, which could turn into a dangerous habit. "Harry, you will not gamble anymore. Is that clear?"

"Well, what if I just bet on this one last game? Everyone thinks Bulgaria is going to lay down and play their reserves because they've already clinched a spot in the World Cup, but Viktor's note says he is going to be playing and trying to win. I bet I can get some great odds with the goblins."

"No," Lily said. "This ends now. I will be contacting Gringotts to have your trust account frozen before you can withdraw so much as a knut to bet with the goblins, Harry."

Harry was about to snap that he had a separate account, but, ultimately, decided better of it. "Alright, I swear I won't gamble anymore."

"Thank you, Harry." Lily sighed in relief. "Gambling can be habit forming, and I really don't want you to become accustom to doing it."

Nodding his head, Harry went back to reading his book.

"Harry, why don't you come downstairs for lunch. I was about to tell Nathan to come inside anyway."

"I'm alright," Harry said dismissively. "I'll make something later."

Lily frowned. Her son's desire to find out about this Occlumency was becoming borderline obsessive, and it worried her a lot. She had been debating over the last few days whether or not to contact Severus and ask if he might be willing to show Harry the magic. She had already contacted Albus, and, from what he told her, Occlumency didn't sound like anything Dark. Sighing, Lily said, "Harry, please come down and get some food with your brother. I promise I'll floo Professor Snape tomorrow and ask if he can give you some Occlumency lessons."

Harry's head snapped up. "Really?" He asked happily.

"Yes, but can you please tell me why learning Occlumency so important to you?" Lily asked. "I don't know a lot about it, but from what little I understand it's very difficult, and uncomfortable to learn."

"I just really want to learn it," Harry replied. "It seems really useful."

Slightly upset that she hadn't been given a better answer, Lily said, "Alright, I''ll ask him tomorrow. Now, can you go tell your brother it's time for lunch?"

"Okay." Harry immediately stood up and quickly raced outside, he never saw the concerned look on his mother's face as he left.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Mind Magic 101**

**Godric's Hallow, June 22** **nd**

Getting Professor Snape to Godric's Hollow was more difficult than convincing him to give the lessons themselves. Since the Potters' floo was only connected to one other floo, Albus Dumbledore's, and one needed to know the location of the Potter's home under the Fidelius charm to be able to floo there, Professor Snape had to take a portkey specially created by Professor Dumbledore.

Another problem that had to be negotiated was that Snape refused to enter the Potter home as long as James, Sirius, and Remus were on the property. There had been a bit of an argument about that condition, until Dumbledore managed to convince Snape to let Remus remain during the lessons. Harry had felt a little guilty that his lessons would essentially kick his father and godfather out of the house, but his mother pointed out that his father, Sirius, and Nathan, who also didn't want to be around Snape, would use the time to go to Diagon Alley or maybe to a Quidditch match, which they all would enjoy.

So, at half past twelve, James, Sirius, and Nathan all floo'd to Sirius' house, and a few minutes later, the surly-looking Potions master standing in the sitting room of the Potters home.

"Severus, thank you for coming," Lily said giving her old friend a hug.

"Yes, well, I could hardly turn down the opportunity to get my hands on some powdered Romanian Longhorn horn. I was unaware that there would be any more produced for the rest of the year, you must tell me your suppliers' name, Lily," Snape commented.

"Maybe, Severus, maybe."

"It's good to see you again, Professor Snape," Harry said respectfully.

Snape appraised Harry very carefully before nodding. "I do hope you know what you are asking for, Mr. Potter. Occlumency is not a subject learned by the faint of heart or the weak of will. It will be uncomfortable, unpleasant, and at times painful. I will give you no leeway, and I have no interest in having my time wasted."

"Always the rainbow of optimism, Severus," Remus said entering the room.

"Lupin," Snape sneered in response.

"Enough. Let's not fight. Severus, would you like anything to drink before you begin?" Lily offered.

"Perhaps later, Lily. For now, I require only privacy with Mr. Potter for his lesson."

"Alright. Remus, let's leave them alone. Good luck Harry," Lily said planting a kiss on his cheek before leaving the room.

Once Lily and Remus had left, Severus turned to Harry, his expression darkening. "Your mother went through a lot of trouble to get me to give you these lessons, Potter. I hope you don't decide to back out after you realize what you've asked for."

Harry's resolve grew. "I'm not going to back out. I need to learn Occlumency."

"Very well, Potter," Snape said. "Before we begin, tell me what you know of Occlumency,"

"Very little, sir," Harry admitted. "I understand it's some form of mind magic; however, I'm not sure what its purpose is."

"And yet you feel you _need_ to learn it? How very curious," Snape commented, causing Harry to curse himself for his slip. "Occlumency, Potter, is a defensive form of mind magic. It is used to prevent a practitioner of Legilimency from penetrating your mind. A strong Legilimens can navigate through the many layers of a person's mind and correctly interpret their findings. The naïve call this mind reading, but make no mistake, Potter, the mind is not a book to be read. A truly exceptional Legilimens does not even require a wand or incantation. He merely needs eye contact to judge a person's surface feelings and intentions. This is what Occlumency protects you from."

Harry knew his face had paled by the time Professor Snape was done speaking. Mind reading! Calypso was trying to warn him about someone reading his mind! That's why she couldn't tell him what was on that piece of parchment. Because the very information could be taken from his mind without his knowing!

"Potter!" Snape snapped. "Are you paying attention?"

"What?" Harry asked started from his thoughts. "I'm sorry, Professor. The reason my friend wanted me to learn Occlumency just became clearer."

"Indeed. Had you been paying attention, you would have heard me explain how the most basic form of Occlumency involves clearing one's mind to prevent a Legilmens from perceiving one's emotions and thoughts. More advanced Occlumency involves suppressing only the thoughts, emotions, and memories that the invading Legilimens is seeking. A strong Occlumens can thus make the Legilimens believe he is telling the truth when he is lying or lying when telling the truth. This requires a great deal of will power and practice; however, the benefits of Occlumency are vast. A master Occlumens has a great deal of control over his or her emotions and is even capable of resisting Veritaserum."

"Now, clear your mind of emotion and prepare yourself," Snape said, drawing his wand. "_Legilimens_!"

The spell struck Harry in the head and he felt his vision swirl and become replaced with a familiar scene.

"_Wait. Just wait, Harry," Calypso said, grabbing his arm. "I can't tell you what it is because...Merli__n, __this is hard."  
_

"_Just tell me the truth, Calypso," Harry said simply._

_"I know what it looks like, but I'm not trying to spy on you or your family. If you believe anything, please believe that. I've never asked you any questions about your brother besides what you've volunteered, and you know I could care less if he's the Boy Who Lived." _

_Calypso let go of his arm. "That said, I can't tell you what that parchment is."_

_"Why not?" Harry demanded impatiently. "Just be honest with me."_

Harry fell to the floor gasping for air. He felt like he had just run a marathon, and he was completely exhausted. What had happened? How had he ended up on the floor?

"Pathetic, Potter," Snape said darkly. "That was a rather poor first attempt at clearing your mind."

Realization dawned on him, and Harry struggled to sit back into his chair across from Professor Snape. "That was Legilimency?"

"Yes, the most blunt approach." Snape answered. "Were you not prepared for it, you would have likely only felt like you were recalling a memory. Now, are you prepared to go again?"

Harry wanted to say no. He wanted to tell Snape never to cast that spell on him ever again, but Calypso's voice echoed in his head. _'Learn Occlumency and I'll tell you everything.' _Nodding his throbbing head, Harry did his best to not think of anything, and signaled for Professor Snape to cast the spell again.

"_Legilimens!_"

There was nothing at first, and then Harry felt a building pressure on his mind, and before his eyes the room fell out of focus.

"_Read this and stop making me look like an idiot," Calypso snapped._

_Glancing at the large book, Harry looked up and _ _read_ _, "_ _ Befuddling, Breaking, and Bashing: A Guide to Questionable Magic _ _. Are you trying to tell me something?"_

"_I didn't tell my father that you were smart only to have you nearly lose your first few duels. I'd start reading that if I were you.__We'r__e going to have a few practice duels to get you back into shape after class today." _

"_It's not like I lost..."_

Harry saw the sitting room slowly swim back into focus, and he moaned, grabbing his head in pain.

"That was slightly better," Snape said grudgingly. "You were able to stop my initial attack, but you let your guard down, and I was able to project my anger into your mind to affect your emotions. I was able to use my anger to find a memory of someone else showing anger toward you."

"How do I stop you from doing that when I don't even understand how to clear my mind?" Harry asked. "Isn't there some sort of technique you can teach me?"

Snape sneered. "I can only teach you the way Professor Dumbledore taught me. I received no book or instruction of any kind. In Albus' own words, "the best Occlumentes are self-taught."

"Should I be feeling nauseous?" Harry asked weakly.

"Are you too ill to continue? Good. I'll go get that drink your mother offered instead of wasting my time working with you," Snape said, making to stand up.

"No," Harry blurted out. "I-I can go again. I can do it."

Snape sat back down and looked penetratingly at Harry. For a second Harry thought Snape was going to leave, but the man quickly whipped out his wand and shot a spell from its tip. Reacting instinctively, Harry used his wand and tried to deflect the spell away from him. He managed to, partially, but the spell stayed on the tip of his wand for less time than any curse he had ever seen. Before Harry could move the spell far enough away from himself, the spell ran off his wand's tip and struck him in the side. Harry tried to fight the dizzying feeling, but once again he felt his vision swim.

"_...wearing Grindelwald's mark," Harry said._

_"Idiots, I hope someone cursed them for it. They probably thought they would look cool by wearing it."_

_"Dirk and Heinrich's families supported Grindelwald, much like yours did R–" _

"NO!" Harry heard himself shout as if from a thousand miles away as the pressure on his mind immediately lessened and then disappeared.

Once again, Harry found himself kneeling on the floor and feeling completely exhausted. His body hurt. His _mind_ hurt. Looking up, Harry was surprised to see Professor Snape also on the ground a few feet away from him. The man slowly stood up, and, after a moment's hesitation, offered a hand to help Harry stand. Harry gratefully took it, and slowly stood as well.

"You tried to deflect the spell," Snape said in amusement.

Harry blushed. "Um, yes. I worked on spell deflection with a friend, and it was just instinct."

"You also managed to generate a weak shield charm to throw me out. Was that intentional as well?" Snape asked.

"No," Harry admitted tiredly. He hadn't even realized he'd cast a spell.

"I believe we are done for the day, Mr. Potter," Snape said after a moment. "Practice clearing your mind before you go to sleep at night, and I will return next week."

"That's all we're going to do?" Harry asked trying to hide his relief.

"Mr. Potter," Snape said exasperatedly, "I don't know if you are aware, but it has been almost an hour since we began, and I have no intention of being around when you father returns. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll see about getting some tea before I leave."

Harry nodded his head and went to upstairs, intent on getting some sleep. He was halfway up the stairs when he decided some tea sounded very nice. Turning around, Harry walked back downstairs.

"Do you have any idea why Harry is so interested in Occlumency, Severus?"

Hearing his mother's voice, Harry froze just outside the kitchen, his heart beating very hard in his chest.

"No," Snape replied after a moment. "However, from what you've told me, I believe I saw the person who mentioned Occlumency to him. The same girl was present in each of the three memories I saw."

"Harry mentioned he had a friend named Calypso," Remus remarked. "Could it be her?" .

"I believe that was her name," Snape said, doing his best to ignore the werewolf. "However, why she wants Harry to learn Occlumency, I do not know."

"How did his first lesson go?" Lily asked hesitantly. "We heard him scream. I know you said Occlumency could be intense, but...but surely there is an easier way."

"If there was an _easy_ way, I suspect more witches and wizards would take advantage of the benefits that come from being an Occlumens," Snape replied. "As far as his first lesson, it went as I expected. His first attempt was horrendous, and I was able to see a fairly important memory. It was recent, and it was some sort of argument between him and the Calypso girl. I won't lie to you, Lily. The girl was claiming that she wasn't spying on Harry or your family. She went on to say that she didn't care if Nathan was the Boy Who Lived. It was an unusual memory that, I admit, I wish I could have seen the end of."

"Spying? Should I be concerned about Harry at Durmstrang, Severus?" Lily asked worriedly. "He seems so much happier there, but if his friends feel the need to tell him they aren't spying on him..."

"I honestly don't know," Snape admitted. "The memory was important, but I felt many different conflicting emotions coming from Harry, and I didn't see it in its entirety."

"And I suppose if I confront him about it, he'll just tell me it isn't important." Lily sighed. "He's becoming so closed-off at times. It worries me."

"He is about to become a teenage boy, Lily. Of course he is going to become closed-off and rebellious about certain things. I would be worried if he wasn't," Remus joked.

Lily laughed. "I guess I am a little sad that my two boys are growing up."

"Yes, well," Snape said uncomfortably, "I suppose I should be leaving before Potter and Black come home."

"Thank you for doing this Severus," Lily said honestly. "I know we have the same potions supplier, so you must not need any more powdered longhorn horn. You're a good friend."

**ooo0000ooo**

**A Rat on the Run and Duping Dumbledore **

**Godric's Hallow, July 14** **th**

Harry sagged into the chair, his head aching, but he had a certain air of accomplishment about him. While he still couldn't stop Snape from entering his mind, Harry managed to immediately detect Snape using passive Legilimency on him when he arrived, and he averted his eyes, managing to break the connection. Snape said it was a good sign that he was developing a self-awareness of what was and wasn't a part of his own mind.

The lessons were still brutal of course, and Harry was in pain for almost a day afterward. His father, godfather, and brother, upon first seeing the state he was in after the lessons, were ready to floo to Hogwarts and curse Snape. Fortunately, Harry had been able to explain that the pain was just a part of the training, and that it lessened as he felt himself improving.

Much as Harry expected after overhearing Snape's conversation with his mother, Snape began targeting memories of Calypso in order to find out more about her. In his four Occlumency lessons, Snape had seen memories of Harry and Calypso laughing, arguing, talking, and even dueling with one another. While Harry had been unable to stop Snape from seeing the memories, he had been successful in keeping Calypso's last name a secret.

"How much longer do you think it will take?" Harry asked, tiredly following Professor Snape into the kitchen where his mother waited with two fresh cups of tea for them. After spying on his mother and Snape's private conversation, Harry had decided to take tea with them after his Occlumency lessons. While he was sure his mother could find out the information from Snape at another time, it wouldn't be as fresh in the professor's mind as immediately after a lesson.

"You're improving, but you still have a great deal to go if you want to learn this before you return to Durmstrang," Snape said, having seen enough of Harry's thoughts to know that was indeed his goal. "My only advice is to work harder."

"That's always your advice," Harry muttered in annoyance.

"You can't expect miracles, Harry," Lily said. "From what Severus has told me, you've done very–"

"Lily! James! Are you there?" Dumbledore frantically called from the living room.

"In the kitchen, Albus," Lily said, standing up in alarm. "What's wrong?"

"Lily, I'm glad I caught you... Severus, what are you doing?...Oh, of course, your lessons with Harry," Dumbledore said. "It's good that you both are here. Lily, I have some rather grave news to tell you. Peter has escaped from Azkaban."

In a matter of seconds, Lily's face shifted from disbelief to horror. "That's impossible! No one has _ever_ escaped from Azkaban."

"I'm afraid his cell was found empty by the dementors earlier today," Dumbledore explained. "The news is being suppressed for right now, but unless they can find him soon it will be made public knowledge."

"But how?" Lily demanded. "The Auror's were aware of his animagus form, and he was kept in a high security area."

A particularly angry look crossed Dumbledore's face "The minister, in his infinite wisdom, was scheduled to visit Azkaban today. The Dementors were moved into the Prison basement and the wards were relaxed somewhat in preparation for his visit. The Auror's believe Peter used the opportunity to escape his cell."

"Who was stupid enough to relax the wards? The minister has to visit Azkaban every year, this was never a problem befo–"

"The minister was never required to tour the high security wing before, Lily. Peter is Azkaban's only long term Animagus prisoner, and somewhere in the bureaucracy the proper procedures were ignored in lieu of the Minister's visit." A goat Paronus burst through the window and Dumbledore bent down to listen to it. After a moment, he turned back to Lily and said, "There will be time to discuss this later. Where are Nathan and James? They must be informed."

Lily's face paled. "They're in Diagon Alley with Sirius."

"Please have them all return as soon as possible." Dumbledore turned to Snape. "Severus, I need you to go and make use of your less savory contacts. Find out if anyone is going to be providing a safe haven for Peter."

Harry watched, slightly frightened, as his mother rushed out of the kitchen to contact his father, and Professor Snape nodded grimly before activating his portkey and disappearing.

"Everything will be alright, Harry," Dumbledore said softly. "We will catch Peter."

Harry looked up at the headmaster and was shocked to feel the slight intrusion of Legilimency against his mind. Rather than simply averting his gaze, Harry tried a trick Professor Snape had told him about. When a Legilimens was trying to get a passive look at someone's surface emotions, a skilled Occlumens could push a different emotion to the forefront of their mind to confuse the invading Legilimens.

Doing his best to suppress the fear he was feeling for his family, Harry focused on the anger he felt when he realized he had no friends in Ravenclaw. Harry remembered how they would bad-mouth him behind his back and try to subtly jinx him in the dorms. Doing his best to follow Professor Snape's instructions, Harry projected his anger towards Dumbledore.

Slowly, Dumbledore's expression grew more and more concerned as he continued to receive the false emotions. "My boy, are you alright?"

"It worked, didn't it?" Harry asked, immediately breaking eye contact with Dumbledore, effectively cutting the connection.

Dumbledore looked at the child in confusion. "Did what work, Harry?"

"You were using passive Legilimency," Harry said, ignoring the shocked expression on Dumbledore's face. "I tried sending you some false emotions. It worked, didn't it?"

Dumbledore shook his head in amazement. "I apologize, Harry. I merely wanted to sense how you were taking the news of Peter's escape. I must say that I am quite surprised that you have taken to Occlumency so quickly. I suppose that will teach an old man from trying to use such a tactic with you ever again. I was quite convinced you were about to attack me for a moment. I think I will ask next time I feel at all inquisitive about what you are thinking."

"I've never been able to project a different emotion before just now, sir," Harry said proudly. "I only recently learned how."

"Remarkable." Dumbledore smiled. "I do hope that when you are writing your memoirs, Harry, that you choose to leave out that I was the first person ever to be fooled by your mind magic. I do have a reputation to uphold."

**ooo0000ooo**

**Fall of the Dark Lord**

**Harry's Room, July 31** **st**

It was a very subdued thirteenth birthday for the two Potter boys. The threat of Peter lying in wait in his Animagus form just outside the wards kept both boys firmly inside the boundaries of the house, and neither of them were allowed to visit Diagon Alley or any other major wizarding area. However, Peter wasn't the only thing that dampened the mood for the two recently turned thirteen year olds.

Nathan's best friend, Ron Weasley, had written weeks earlier and told Nathan that he wouldn't be able to come over for his birthday after his family won the Daily Prophet's annual 1000 Galleon draw. The normally cash-strapped Weasley family had decided to go on holiday to see their eldest son Bill in Egypt. Nathan's other best friend, Hermione Granger, was likewise holidaying in France with her parents, and apologized for not being able to be at his birthday either.

As for Harry, he received a card and a present from Viktor, who explained that unlike the Junior National Team, the Bulgarian National Team had people who were paid to cater to the "petty whims" of the Quidditch players and would go out and buy things like presents when the players didn't have time.

Opening Viktor's gift, Harry was pleasantly surprised to see an interesting looking book on enchantments as well as several small objects. A knife, a teacup, a small stuffed Veela doll wearing a Bulgarian National team Jersey, and four unenchanted Quidditch balls that were typically given to little children. After quickly reading Viktor's letter, Harry smiled. Viktor had given him a book that described several interesting and difficult enchantments, along with the items to enchant. He would certainly enjoy Viktor's present later in the summer. Testing what he could do with enchantments was always fun. Dangerous, yes, but fun nonetheless.

Putting Viktor's gift aside, Harry made his way downstairs where his brother and father were listening to the Pride of Portree play the Appleby Arrows on the wireless.

"Who's winning?" Harry asked more to announce his arrival then caring about the match.

"The Arrow of course," James said proudly. "210 to 140."

"Did you hear about how Bulgaria destroyed Poland a week ago?" Harry asked curiously.

"Of course," James said, clearly a bit surprised that Harry had suddenly shown an interest in Quidditch, "Everyone thought that the Poles would win since Bulgaria had nothing to play for. I tell you, that new Seeker of Bulgaria's is something special. They might be trouble for England if we get stuck in their group for the World Cup."

"I don't think anyone is going to top England. Sheer is playing at the top of his game," Nathan declared.

"Maybe," Harry said, "but England is legendary for fielding amazing teams only to come up short. We haven't won the World Cup since the sixties."

"Hey," James said indignantly, "that wasn't so long ago. I was born in 1960 you know, Harry."

"Wow, you're getting up there, Dad. Dumbledore had better watch out," Harry smirked.

"I'll show you who's old," James said, playfully drawing his wand and casting a color-changing charm at Harry's hair.

Harry watched the spell leave his father's wand and swiftly deflected it right at Nathan whose eyes widened dramatically at the spell's radical change of direction. The spell hit Nathan in the face, turning his entire head bubblegum pink.

Harry laughed uproariously. "It's a good look for you, Nathan."

"I'll get you for this, Harry," Nathan warned, drawing his wand.

"Put that away, Nathan," Lily chided, removing the color-changing charm with a casual wave of her wand. "I swear, I leave the three of you alone for a minute, and you devolve into chaos."

"Dad started it," Harry muttered as two large birds swiftly flew into the room. Harry immediately identified both birds as being from Durmstrang, and they quickly landed near him.

"Oooooo," Nathan said with a wicked grin. "Did your grades arrive on your birthday, Harry? Talk about bad luck!"

Harry simply rolled his eyes as he removed a letter from the smaller of the two birds. "Some of us, Nathan, are confident enough that we did well."

"Okay, Mr. Confident," Nathan smirked. "Let's see how you did."

Opening the letter, Harry immediately recognizing the first part.

_Dear Mr. Potter, _

_Congratulation_ _s. Yo_ _ur academic scores for your second year have been judged, and you will be allowed to continue your education at Durmstrang Institute of Magic. _

_Please note that classes begin on the 26_ _th_ _ of August. This letter will function as a Portkey to take you to Durmstrang; however, it will only be active between the 20_ _th_ _ to the 25_ _th_ _ of August. Should these dates prove problematic for you, please contact us no later than the 7_ _th _ _of August. Activation word is Crete. _

_Sincerely, _

_Demetri Überzeug_

_Assistant to the Highmaster_

Taking a deep breath, Harry glanced down and took a look at his scores.

_Charms: M  
Transfiguration: M _

_Dark Arts: M_

_Herbology: J _

_History of Magic: M _

_Potions: M_

_Spell Creation: M _

_Mr. Potter you have passed all of your classes, and you have been cleared to take Fifth Year Charms and Transfiguration, Fourth Year Dark Arts, Herbology, History of Magic, and Potions, and Third Year Spell Creation. You may also choose to take any number of electives, which include Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Astronomy, Divination, and Magical Creatures. _

Harry let out an excited 'whoop' and did a little jig before pulling his brother into a hug. "I did it! I did it!"

"Seriously?" Nathan asked before getting a look at his brother's score card. "Wow."

"Did what, Harry?" Lily asked curiously.

Smiling widely, Harry showed his parents his score card, and quickly explained his goal of breaking Grindelwald's academic for the most first place rankings in a single year. Needless to say, both Lily and James were flabbergasted by what Harry had managed to achieve.

"That's unbelievable. I can't believe you topped Grindelwald," James said in awe. "How long was that record standing for?"

"97 years," Harry said proudly. "Grindelwald set it in his fifth year at Durmstrang, and I just beat it!"

"You would think that the letter would have mentioned something about it," Lily said, re-reading her son's scorecard to ensure that she hadn't missed anything.

At the mention of a letter, the remaining owl reminded everyone of its presence by making a very loud and angry screeching sound.

Harry quickly made to remove the letter from the larger owl, only to discover a decently sized manila envelope tied to the owls leg. Once the envelope was removed, the owl departed after sending a glare at each of the four Potters for seemingly wasting its valuable time.

Opening the envelope, Harry was surprised to see a magazine and a letter fall out.

_Dear Harry,_

_By now you should have received your grades_ _. I_ _ mailed this letter at the same tim_ _e, _ _so they should have arrived together. _

_If you haven't looked at your grades yet, please do so._

_Now, let me be the first at Durmstrang to congratulate you on _surpassing_ Grindelwald's__ academic marks f__or the most Master rankings in a single year. I knew you could do it, Harry! __Every one__ of your teachers are so very proud of the effort you put into your studies last year, myself included. A small ceremony will be held during the Welcoming Feast to honor your achievement, so please wear dress robes. _

_If I were _ _you, H_ _arry, I would expect to receive several letters and tokens of appreciation from not only your other teachers and peers, but also from many grateful witches and wizards of Central and Eastern Europe. You might now be asking yourself, how are random people not associated with Durmstrang going to know you beat Grindelwald's record?_

_I would ask that you now turn your attention to the copy of Transfiguration Today that I attached to this letter. The magazine is an early copy of their August British edition. Please turn to the story that spans from page 5 to page 8. _

_I knew I would be seeing great things from _ _you, Har_ _ry._

_Keep up the amazing work, _

_Professor Rosemburg_

Harry glanced down at the copy of _Transfiguration Today_. Flipping to page five, he gasped and nearly dropped the magazine. There on the front of page five, was a large picture of himself and Professor Rosemburg that Harry remembered had been taken near the end of the term. Harry blinked twice as he stared incredulously at the story, which took up several pages in the famous magazine.

_ **Harry James Potter, Defeater of Grindelwald!** _

_As many of you know, Nathan Potter, The _ _Boy Who Lived, _ _is the only known survivor of the killing curse and defeater of the powerful dark wizard known as You-Know-Wh_ _o. Wh_ _at is less commonl_ _y known is that Nathan Potter ha_ _s a t_ _win brother named Harry, who also has a penchant for defeating dark lords. In the case of Mr. Harry Potter, however, the dark lord in question h_ _as long been captured and punished for his crimes. _

_Still, long after his defeat at the hands of Albus Dumbledore, the Dark Lord Grindelwald had, until recently, managed to hold onto the record for academic excellence at his old_ _ alma ma_ _ter. Before he became the infamous _ _wizard_ _, Gellert Grindelwald was _ _simply_ _ an exceptionally brilliant young man who, during his fifth year at Durmstrang, set the record for the most first place individual rankings in the school's history. _

_Unlike Hogwarts or Beauxbatons, who rank students by their overall performance in their combined classes, Durmstrang not only ranks students overall performance, but in each subject as well. Grindelwald set the standard for excellence at Durmstrang with five first place rankings in 1897, a _ _feat_ _ that has long been considered by many professors to be unbeatable at the academy. "No one in the last 97 years has come close to matching Grindelwald's academic mar_ _k," comments Durmstrang Charms professor Alexander Kosarev. "Ty_ _pically there are three or four students in each subject who all compet_ _e_ _ for the honor of the top spot, and it's very rare for any one student to get more than two first place rankings."_

_Very rare, but not impossible. Just ask Harry Potter. Mr. Potter transferred to the Durmstrang Institute of Magic from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry halfway through his first year. After taking Durmstrang's mandatory placement tests, Mr. Potter tested into third year Transfiguration and Charms classes while testing into Second year Potions, Herbology, and History of Magic. When asked about Mr. Potter's incredible placement test results, a spokesperson from Durmstrang said, "Mr. Potter's placement test was one of, if not, the finest entrance examinations in the history of Durmstrang. The young man did things with a wand I would never have believed possible from an eleven _ _year-old_ _."_

_Mr. Potter placed first in his third year Charms class at the end of his first year at Durmstrang by perfectly crafting a Semi-Permanent- Enchantment-Receptacle, an O.W._ _L.- le_ _vel charm. However, besting peers several years his senior was not nearly impressive enough for Mr. Potter. Earlier this year, Durmstrang's Transfiguratio_ _n pro_ _fessor contacted this publication with a major discovery made by one of his students. The student in question is, of course, Mr. Potter. _

_The_ _ end-of-term project at Dursmstrang _ _makes up for a large percentage of each student's final grade and i_ _s designed to not only de_ _monstrate the student's understanding of the material taugh_ _t, b_ _ut_ _ to go _ _beyond what has been explained in the class. While working on his final project in Transfiguration, Mr. Potter managed to find an exception to the age old theory that living and nonliving things are incompatible with each other in switching swells (To see the full discovery _ _analysis, p_ _lease turn to page 7). _

_After following the instructions in Professor Rosemburg's correspondence, we confirmed that Mr. Potter had indeed made a crucial discovery in the field of Transfiguration, and we were prepared to publish the discovery in our May edition. However, just prior to running the article, we received an additional letter from Professor Rosemburg asking us to delay the publication of Mr. Potter's discovery. Professor Rosemburg explained _ _that_ _ Mr. Potter was attempting to do the impossible by challenging Gellert Grindelwald's academic mark at Durmstrang, and how many professors, himself included, were beginning to think that the young man was capable of beating it. Naturally, we were intrigued, and so we agreed to shelf the article for the time being._

_Well la_ _dy witches a_ _nd gentlewizards, it giv_ _es all of u_ _s at _ _Transfiguration Today _ _a great deal of pleasure to report that_ _ Harry Potter has indeed succeeded in sur_ _passing Grindelwald's academic record. Mr. Potter achieved the top spot in six classes (Transfiguration, Charms, Dark Arts, Potions, Spell-Crafting, and History of Magic), besting Grindelwald by one! Everyone at _ _Transfiguration Today_ _ gives Mr. Potter their best, and if we are to believe Mr. Potter's Transfiguration _ _p_ _rofessor, we will be publishing the young man's discoveries for many more years to come. _

_Mr. Potter's Final Projects Broken Down...Page 6 _

_Using Broken Enchantments To Facilitate Switching Spells….Page 7 _

_Experts Debate New Discovery ...Page 8_

After briefly glancing at the other pages, Harry numbly handed the magazine over to his parents, who gasped and quickly began reading the articles. A few moments later, Harry found himself in a bone-crushing hug from his mother.

"Oh Harry, I'm so proud of you!" Lily said happily. "I can't believe you're published at 13! And you would have been at twelve, had they run your discovery in their earlier edition."

Once Lily released him, Harry found himself to be immediately brought into a tight hug from his father. "This is absolutely brilliant, Harry. I can't wait to show Sirius and Remus. Your uncles are going to be so proud."

The rest of the day was a daze for Harry. He remembered his uncles coming by to congratulate him on his discovery, and how everyone said how proud they were of his achievement. It was all so very surreal that in the years to come, Harry would remember very little of the actual day. However, he would always remember that night.

Lying in bed, Harry was reflecting on the incredible day he had just had when there was a soft tapping on his window. Looking up, he saw a small, inconspicuous-looking owl, painfully trying to stay afloat while carrying a decent sized parcel.

Quickly getting out of bed, Harry let the owl into his room, which, once relieved of its burden, flew back out the window. Glancing down at the small wrapped package, Harry opened the small letter that was on top.

_Harry, _

_Please return this to me the moment you get back to Durmstrang._

_Happy Birthday,  
Calypso _

Happy that his friend hadn't ignored his birthday, Harry carefully unwrapped the gift, which turned out to be a small leather-bound book. When he saw the title, his eyes widened. Opening the book and reading the table of contents, Harry reverently and carefully closed the cover.

From what Professor Dumbledore had said, Harry knew books on Occlumency were rarer than rare, and coveted by just about everyone. From the note, Harry inferred that the book belonged to Professor Rosier, and that Calypso had probably taken it without his knowledge. Harry did his best not to think what his Dark Arts professor would do if he ever found out that Calypso had just sent one of his rarest magical tomes several thousand miles away with a small, undersized owl.

Looking at the old book, Harry vowed that Calypso's father would never pluck the information from his mind. Romulus would never know Calypso sent him the book.

**ooo0000ooo**

**The Good and The Bad **

**Godric's Hallow, Aug. 9** **th**

"_Legilimens!_"

Harry felt the spell hit him, and he immediately focused on bringing a memory to the forefront of his mind.

_"I don't care what you think, Nathan, Professor Snape is not a _ _va_ _mpire!" Harry exclaimed._

_"Har_ _ry, e_ _veryone knows it's true," Nathan said. "Have you ever seen him go into the sunlight?" _

Harry smiled as he felt Snape's ever-increasing annoyance at the memory that appeared. Harry continued to focus on the memory, replaying it a few times, causing Snape's ire to grow. Just as the Potions Master pushed the full force of his energy into navigating away from the memory, Harry was able to clear his mind of all thought, forcing Snape from his mind.

While Harry still couldn't stop Snape from entering his mind, he had made several impressive strides. It now consistently took Professor Snape at least a few seconds before he was able to overpower, or influence an emotion into Harry's mind. Even once he was in Harry's mind, however, Harry had become adept at withholding valuable information. The book Calypso had sent was absolutely brilliant at making suggestions to annoy an invading Legilimens.

For instance, if you weren't quite at the level to consistently stop an invading Legilimens, a good way to bother him or her once inside the mind is to focus on hunger. This would bring countless unimportant memories of meals to the forefront of your mind. Once the Legilimens was annoyed at not finding what he or she wanted, it became easy to distinguish the foreign emotions, and thus easier to clear your mind to expel the Legilimens.

"For the record," Harry smirked, "I don't think you're a vampire."

Snape narrowed his eyes and peered intently at Harry. "You led me to that memory intentionally. You knew I was growing frustrated at seeing useless memories of you eating, and you baited me."

"I did," Harry agreed.

Snape stood. "I believe we are done for today. We should have two, maybe three more lessons before you go back to Durmstrang. If you continue to improve as you have, I'm confident you will be able to hold back any Legilimens that tries to invade your mind. Good work today, Potter."

Harry thanked his former professor and went upstairs to tinker with some of the enchantments he had been working on. As he passed his brother's door, Harry sighed. Why was it that every time something good happened to him, something bad happened as well? Less then a week after being published in _Transfiguration Today_, Harry had stumbled onto a copy of his brother's grades from his second year at Hogwarts. While the end of year examinations were canceled for all non-O.W.L and N.E.W.T years, that didn't mean the students didn't get grades. The teachers simply awarded the students the grade they had earned thus far in the class without an end of year examination.

Nathan had gotten an Acceptable in Potions and only an Exceeds Expectations in Charms and Transfiguration. Harry had confronted his brother and pointed out that he could have done so much better.

That small argument had turned into a larger one when Harry asked what Nathan was doing in case Peter came after him. Their parents had just earlier in the day revealed that Peter had been muttering 'He's at Hogwarts, He's at Hogwarts' in his sleep while in Azkaban, making his parents fear that Peter was going to attack Nathan. Harry had offered to make a list of spells for Nathan to learn, but Nathan had casually shrugged them off as unnecessary, trusting that Professor Dumbledore would keep him safe at the school. It was Nathan's casual dismissal of practicing defensive magic that caused Harry to hex him. When Nathan found himself bound, upside-down, and stuck to a wall in his room. Harry pointed out that if he could do that to Nathan, then surely, Peter, who survived as a spy for Voldemort, would be able to catch him unaware.

Nathan did not take to the hexing so well, and, after a stern lecture from his mother, Harry spent the next two days grounded in his room. Harry had a plan, however. Hermione Granger was going to be coming over along with Weasley to belatedly celebrate Nathan's birthday. If there was one person in the world that could get Nathan to study, Harry knew that it had to be Hermione. It was just a matter of convincing her to convince Nathan to learn some spells that would take Peter by surprise.

**ooo0000ooo**

**We Fight Because We Love**

**Godric's Hallow, Aug. 14** **th**

"...And of course I am ever so impressed at your discovery," Hermione gushed. "We haven't learned switching spells yet, but I reviewed a few essays I wrote about them and did a bit more research after I read the article. Do you have any idea when your discovery will enter a textbook?"

"Well, the self-updating books should already contain it, but it'll probably take a few years for the rest of the books to be updated properly," Harry said. "It might be ready by your O.W.L year."

"I certainly hope so. Are you looking forward to going back to Durmstrang?" Hermione asked. "Your mother mentioned some sort of party they are planning for you..."

"Yeah, there is going to be a reception during the welcome feast. I've also been getting letters from most of my professors asking what I like most about their subjects. My friend thinks they're all trying to outdo one another to get me the best gift, and are most likely trying to fish for information."

"You have to write and tell me what they give you," Hermione said. "Oh and thank you again for giving me your old spell creation book. It might take a while for me to translate the German, but I can't wait to get home and read it. I wish Hogwarts offered a course on spell creation. It seems absolutely fascinating."

"I agree. I asked Professor Dumbledore why they don't offer it, and he said that Hogwarts stopped staffing the position in the late 1700s after the failure rate got too high. It is a very tough subject, and few people are ever able to master it."

"Well, I think spell creation would be an absolutely brilliant course to take. I was planning on taking all the electives at Hogwarts, but your mother convinced me that wasn't a good idea. I had no idea I could take the Muggle Studies O.W.L. even if I didn't take the course, and Divination just seems like a waste of time. I'm going to be taking Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy."

"Good choices. I'm going to be taking Magical Creatures and Astronomy. I was tempted to take Ancient Runes, but I just can't find a reason to learn a dead language. At least Astronomy can be useful in other subjects, like Herbology and Potions, and knowing about magical creatures is always good, I suppose.

"I wish Nathan had your attitude sometimes. Have you seen what classes he signed up for?" Hermione asked, clearly disappointed.

"Yeah, Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. I can't say I'm happy with his choices, but I'm sure you've heard that I haven't exactly been on the best of terms with Nathan lately."

Hermione looked slightly chastising. "I heard that you hexed him for no reason, so I suppose he's allowed to be slightly cross with you."

"Is that what he told you?" Harry scoffed. "Tell me, Hermione, has Nathan told you there is an insane, homicidal maniac that is most likely trying to kill him?"

"WHAT!" Hermione exclaimed.

"I'll take it that is a no?" Harry asked rhetorically.

"Explain! Now!" Hermione turned slightly pink as she realized how demanding she sounded, and added, "Um, I mean, could you explain that, please?"

"Have you heard of Peter Pettigrew?"

"The wizard who escaped from Azkaban," Hermione said tentatively with a nod of her head.

"Peter was one of my dad's best mates at school. He was sent to Azkaban after convincing my parents to drop Nathan and me off at my mother's parents' house, and telling the Dark Lord where to find us. Peter was a spy for the Dark Lord. He set Nathan and I up to die when we were younger. Fortunately, something happened that night, and Voldemort ended up being the one who died. Peter was captured and given Veritaserum. He confessed to being a Death Eater, and was given life in Azkaban."

"And now he's out," Hermione realized, "and he blames your brother for stopping You-Know-Who!"

"Exactly," Harry said. "I hexed Nathan after he basically said he didn't have to worry about Peter because Dumbledore would protect him. While I agree that Dumbledore will do everything to protect Nathan, Pettigrew is still dangerous. Nathan should be learning some advanced magic to protect himself!"

"I agree," Hermione said immediately, causing Harry to smile at the witch's predictable enthusiasm.

"I was hoping you'd say that, Hermione. Nathan won't listen to me, but he just might listen to you."

"You think _I _can make Nathan listen when you can't?" Hermione said in surprise.

"Well, there is only one way to find out, isn't there? Where is Nathan?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's showing Ron that new broomstick servicing kit your uncle got him."

"Alright, let's go talk to him."

"Now?" Hermione asked surprised.

"Of course, the sooner the better! I've even made a small list of spells for Nathan to start studying," Harry said. "All I need is for you to convince him to learn them."

Dragging Hermione up to his brother's room, Harry quickly opened the door causing Ron and Nathan to quickly throw a magazine off the bed. Both boys appeared flustered and had an air of guilt about them.

"What were you two doing?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes slightly.

"Nothing!" Ron and Nathan said immediately.

Spotting the glimmering cover of _The Nymph's Grotto_, which Sirius had secretly given to Harry and Nathan for their birthday, Harry discretely banished the magazine further under Nathan's bed. If he knew Hermione, she would most likely go off on a tangent about Nathan and Ron looking at the dirty magazine, and Harry needed her focused on the task at hand.

"It doesn't matter," Harry said, giving Hermione a pointed look. "Nathan, Hermione and I want to talk to you."

Nathan looked between Harry and Hermione in confusion before understanding appeared on his face. "Oh, err, wow. Umm, okay, I sort of expected, but I didn't think-What I mean to say is...I'm alright with it, so no problems here."

"Great! Wait...what? Okay with what, Nathan?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Well, you know," Nathan said uncomfortably. "You and Hermione. I mean, I'm not surprised. You're the two smartest people I know, so, well, it's not that shocking that you two would, umm, get together."

Understanding hit Harry and Hermione at the same time, and they both looked at each other before quickly looking away in embarrassment.

"No," Harry said quickly. "We're not... dating."

"We wanted to talk to you about Peter Pettigrew. Harry tells me you're not taking the threat he possesses seriously and we think you need to prepare yourself just in case he is able to somehow able to get to you in Hogwarts." Hermione said very quickly, still blushing from Nathan's assumption.

"Harry, why did you drag Hermione into this?" Nathan asked tiredly. "Hogwarts is a fortress, and there is no way Dumbledore will let Pettigrew get to me."

"Exactly," Harry said triumphantly. "Hogwarts _is_ a fortress. It's meant to repel armies, not a single insane wizard."

"Please Nathan," Hermione begged. "Harry and I just want you to be safe. Promise me you'll look at learning some defensive spells, just in case the worst happens."

"What kind of magic?" Ron asked, eying Harry with open distrust. He had never really liked Harry, and he had never forgiven him for calling him stupid in front of the entire Great Hall at the end of their first year.

Knowing that Harry had probably filled Hermione in on their family's relationship with Pettigrew, Nathan accepted the fact that if he didn't agree with them now, Hermione would just continually bring it up during the year until he agreed to learn what she wanted. With a sigh, he relented. "What do you want me to learn?"

Harry smiled and took out his list of spells. "Here is a small list of spells I think you should start with," he said, ignoring Ron's sarcastic comment of 'Yeah right, small.' "Most of them are curses and hexes that I've been taught in my Dark Arts class. You should start at the top and start working your way down. The spells get progressively harder, but more powerful."

"Nathan is not learning any dark magic!" Ron exclaimed, causing Harry to angrily glare at him.

"First of all, my brother can damn well decide what magic to learn without your help, Weasley. Besides, do you even know what makes something dark magic?" Harry demanded. "Not that it matters for you of course – you probably still can't cast a proper levitation charm."

Ron made to draw his wand, but Nathan pulled his arm back down. "Ron, don't," Nathan said, knowing that Harry didn't like Ron and would love an opportunity to curse him. "And Harry, Ron's right, I'm not learning any dark magic. Most of the people at Hogwarts are still coming to the realization that I wasn't the heir of Slytherin. I'm not going to secretly start studying the Dark Arts. I'll be seen as the next Voldemort... again!"

"Did you really make a list of dark magic for Nathan to learn?" Hermione asked, aghast.

"No," Harry snapped, "I didn't make a list of dark curses. But even if I did, it's not like Nathan using them against Pettigrew would be a bad thing!"

"Except when your soul turns black and evil," Ron declared dramatically.

"Turns your soul black and evil." Harry repeated, looking at Ron as though he was an insect that needed to be squashed. "Weasley, just out of curiosity, how stupid are you?" Before Ron could answer, Harry said, "You know what, just shut up. People with the intelligence of a Flobberworm don't get to be involved in this conversation. Nathan, take the list, and promise me you'll practice the spells."

Nathan looked back and forth between the list Harry was offering him and the looks of mistrust on his two friends' faces. After a moment's thought, Nathan pushed the list back towards Harry. "I'm not learning anything that might be dark magic, Harry. Dark magic is evil, Dad taught us that."

"Damn it, Nathan, there is no good or evil in magic – there is only the power and the intent that magic is used for! Now take the list!"

Harry immediately knew that he had said something wrong because even before he finished speaking, Nathan was looking at him in horror.

"What did you just say?" Nathan whispered disbelieving.

Wondering exactly what had made Nathan freak out, Harry repeated, "Nathan, listen. All that matters with magic is –"

"N-no,"Nathan stammered. "I don't want the list. I won't take it!"

"Nathan! Just listen to me," Harry pressed.

Ron took a threatening step forward. "He said he doesn't want it!"

Finally pushed beyond his limit, Harry whipped out his wand and cast a particularly vicious hex at Ron. The spell struck Ron in the head and, immediately, red snakes began growing out of Ron's hair.

Ron's blood-curdling scream quickly drew the attention of the adults downstairs, who burst into Nathan's room with their wands drawn. They found Hermione frantically trying to cast every counter-hex she knew at Ron's head while Nathan and Harry were tumbling on the ground fighting.

**ooo0000ooo**

**The Prince's Praise**

**Godric's Hallow, Aug. 23** **rd**

For cursing Ron, Harry was grounded for the rest of the summer. Not even Harry's explanation of Nathan not taking the threat of Pettigrew seriously softened his parents' punishment. Harry was confined to his room for the rest of the summer, with the exception of using the bathroom, and taking meals with the rest of the family. His parents had even briefly considered grounding Harry from receiving his last two Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape; however, they ultimately decided against that.

Much to Harry's annoyance, when Snape heard that Harry had used the Gorgon-Hair Hex on Ron, his former professor spent a good twenty minutes scolding him for not using Occlumency to keep his temper. As Professor Snape said, "Being able to keep one's emotions under control when faced with outright idiocy is one of the most valuable benefits of Occlumency."

While Snape was disappointed at Harry's lack of discipline, James had demanded to see the spell list that seemed to be the cause of the fight. Only after Harry showed him the list, which consisted of defensive magic like the shield charm and a few curses, with the most dangerous being the blasting curse, did James admit that Ron had blown the argument out of proportion. Lily was also disappointed with her son for harming a guest, and had, surprisingly, been the one who decided that Harry would be punished for the rest of his summer break.

As for Nathan, he had outright refused to talk to Harry during meals, and kept his distance from his brother on the rare occasions when Harry tried to talk to him.

"_Legilimens_!"

The spell struck Harry in-between the eyes, and Harry immediately cleared his mind. As the moments ticked by, Harry could feel Snape putting more and more power behind the spell, and trying to project an emotion into Harry's mind to trigger a memory. After nearly five minutes, Snape ended the spell and sagged slightly into his chair. Harry followed suit, rubbing his head gingerly.

"Congratulations, Potter. I daresay you've become better than average at Occlumency."

Harry couldn't help but feel a great deal of pride. He had learned to interpret Snape-speak during the course of their lessons, and to be told he was better than average was a very high compliment from his old Potions professor. "Thank you for all your help, sir. I never would have been able to succeed without your guidance."

Snape nodded, seemingly pleased by the compliment. "I admit it was refreshing to teach someone besides the usual group of dunderheads I am forced to instruct."

"Finished?" Lily asked entering the room with Remus at her side.

"Yes," Snape said standing up.

Lily nodded and then turned to Harry. "Back upstairs, Harry."

Muttering a goodbye to Professor Snape, Harry returned to his room, annoyed that he was still being punished by his parents. It wasn't his fault that Ron Weasley was a complete idiot! If he had been a half decent wizard, he just would have shielded, deflected, or dodged the spell! Instead the moron got hit by the hex and dropped his wand! Then, acting like a scared Muggle, attempted to pull the snakes out of his hair, resulting in his hands being bit.

Glancing down at his Durmstrang letter, Harry once again contemplated activating the Portkey early and going back to school. Now that he knew for a fact that he was good enough at Occlumency, he wanted to talk to Calypso and find out exactly what was going on with that piece of parchment. He had exchanged some letters with Calypso over the summer, but their friendship was still tenuous from the argument at the end of last term.

Harry was also looking forward to seeing Viktor again. Harry had written to his friend often during the summer, but return letters had been few and far between as Bulgaria's training schedule began demanding more and more of Viktor's time. Bulgaria had been sent to Group E in the World Cup along with Russia, Colombia, and Egypt, and they were already the frontrunner to win the group after defeating Egypt by a staggering 620-80 in their first match. While Harry had been proud of Viktor's accomplishments, the demand of professional Quidditch didn't give Viktor a lot of time for correspondence, and Harry was looking forward to getting back to Durmstrang and seeing his friend.

Decided, Harry summoned his trunk and began to pack his belongings to go back to Durmstrang. He didn't care if his parents would ground him over Christmas for leaving early, at least he wouldn't be stuck in his room any longer.

After packing most of his belongings, Harry turned his attention to the rather troublesome items sitting on his desk. While the initial enchantments Harry had placed on the items Viktor had sent him for his birthday were all perfectly safe, being stuck in his room for the last part of summer with nothing to do had given Harry a nasty case of idle hands syndrome. As such, he had tried improving upon the enchantments he had placed on the knife, teacup, stuffed Veela teddy, and miniature Quidditch balls.

While the knife and teacup were mostly harmless, unless you tried to pick up the knife or drink tea out of the cup, Harry had horribly botched the enchantments on the stuffed Veela teddy and Quidditch set. The stuffed avian Veela had initially been enchanted to be animate, and the small stuffed animal could often be found harmlessly wandering around his room. Unfortunately, animating the stuffed animal was not enough for Harry, and he thought it would be interesting if he could enchant the teddy to send out a small burst of fire, just like a real Veela.

The enchantment failed miserably, and now the small stuffed animal had a horrible tendency to burst into flames if anyone tried picking it up. The flame-proof charm Harry had cast before trying to enchant the teddy ensured that the stuffed Veela always survived its spontaneous combustions.

The burning Veela was nothing compared to the mistake Harry had made with the miniature Quidditch set, however. Initially enchanted to fly around his room, the miniature balls were an interesting sight, and Nathan had been quite envious when he first saw them; however, Harry had wanted to make them more realistic.

Harry still wasn't sure what had gone wrong, but when he tried enchanting the two Bludgers to chase the Snitch and Quaffle and attempt to knock the balls out of the air, the Bludgers had somehow become malicious. The two balls had irreparably damaged the Quaffle and Snitch, and, once the Snitch and Quaffle were destroyed, they began attacking everything else in his room. Eventually, Harry had been able to capture the two Bludgers, and they were now trapped in his spare closet.

Figuring that the Bludgers would be more difficult to deal with than the stuffed Veela, Harry decided to get the worst over with and waved his wand at the closet, opening the door. The two angry enchanted Bludgers raced out of the room and made a beeline for Harry's head.

Just as he was about to cast a freezing charm, the door to his room opened. Quickly turning around, Harry was surprised to see Professor Snape walk inside. With a sharp jab of his wand, Harry closed the door to make sure the Bludgers couldn't escape out of his room.

Snape's eyes widened when he saw the two Quidditch balls head straight for him, and he silently sent a spell at the nearest Bludger, causing it to momentarily freeze before violently exploding. The second Bludger apparently rethought its decision to head towards the professor and tried to escape out of the window; however, Harry swiftly subdued it with a freezing charm, and it fell to the ground immobile.

"Potter, what in Merlin's name is that thing!" Snape demanded.

"An enchantment gone awry," Harry said as he placed the Bludger securely into its box and placed it in his trunk. He'd show it to professor Kosarev and try to figure out what he did wrong. "Is there something I can help you with, Professor? Oh, and whatever you do, don't touch the stuffed Veela on my desk," Harry warned. "It tends to catch on fire."

Eying the innocuous looking teddy that was sitting a few feet away from him with its arms open, apparently looking for a hug, Snape took a step away from the stuffed Veela. "I have one final piece of advice regarding Occlumency, Potter."

"What else should I know, sir?" Harry asked curiously.

"As you continue your practice in Occlumency, you will find that your greater control and understanding of your mind will lead to you developing a fledgling talent for Legilmency."

Harry looked at his old professor in shock. "But I thought Legilimency had to be learned? How would I just develop the talent?"

"What you must understand, Mr. Potter, is that there are many more practitioners of Legilimency than Occlumency. Learning Legilimency can be done in a similar manner to learning any other piece of spell work, and it is not nearly as uncomfortable as Occlumency. However, by learning Occlumency, you have reached an understanding of the mind that most practicing Legilimentes would never achieve."

"But, sir," Harry repeated. "How will I just develop a talent in Legilimency? I don't understand."

"What did I tell you during your first lesson?" Snape said. "The mind is a complex object. By becoming an Occlumens, you've successfully brought both your magic and mind under control. As a side effect of this process, there will be times when you might find yourself inadvertently projecting your mind magic, such as when you are extremely curious or interested in knowing what someone is thinking."

"For someone who is just trying to become a Legilimens, this is the most difficult step in the process, yet it will come easy to you. At first, it will seem like a burst of accidental magic. A sudden realization that someone is lying to you, reading the surface emotions of people, or perhaps seeing part of a memory. It will eventually become burdensome unless you learn to control it. When you do, you will have become a successful Legilimens."

"So while not all Legilimens are Occlumens, all Occlumens are Legilimens?" Harry asked.

"While there are a few Occlumens that try to suppress or ignore the Legilimency, they are few and far between," Snape replied. "Most accomplished Occlumens consider Legilimency one of the most beneficial aspect of learning Occlumency, for in learning one useful talent, you have gained another."

"I understand," Harry said carefully. "Thank you for telling me, sir."

"The best of luck on your next term, Mr. Potter," Snape said, departing from Harry's room.

"Well that was interesting," Harry said, looking at his stuffed Veela. "Do you think I should start learning Legilimency?"

In response, the small Veela happily opened its arms, hoping for a hug. Harry carefully approached the stuffed avian, and was about to pick it up when it erupted into flames.

"What am I going to do with you?" Harry asked in resignation.

The toy had no answer.


	11. Interlude: Responses

**Lily and James **

**Godric's Hollow, July 31** **st**

"Crazy day, huh?" James asked, climbing into bed next to his wife.

Lily put down the early edition of _Transfiguration Today_ and looked expectantly at her husband. "Any news?"

"No." James sighed. "Still no sign of Peter. Merlin, I never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad Harry's going to Durmstrang now. Peter will have no idea where the school is... Merlin, _we_ don't even know where the school is. Hopefully, Harry will have a calm year, and we won't have to worry about him."

"I-James, I'm worried," Lily admitted.

"Lily, it'll be okay," James said reassuringly, "we know Albus is doing everything he can to keep Nathan safe this year."

"I'm not talking about Peter, and whatever he plans to do..." Lily trailed off slightly before steadying herself. "I'm worried about Harry, James. Neither of us really liked him going to Durmstrang, and I don't like not knowing what goes on at that school."

James nodded his head in understanding. "I know Lily. I feel the same way. Whenever I talk to him about it, I just feel like he's not telling me everything."

"An understatement if there ever was one," Lily said disdainfully. "James, Harry's become more and more reluctant to share things about his time there, and now he's obsessed with Occlumency, which, according to Severus, will likely make him more self-contained. "

"But at the same time," Lily continued, tossing James the Transfiguration magazine, "how can we argue with results like this? I wish I could say that Harry would have achieved the same thing if he was at Hogwarts... but I just don't know if that's true. I know our son is going to be a great wizard someday James, but I'm a little concerned with how he's growing up. Why won't he tell us more about Durmstrang?"

"I don't know, but I think there's more to his Dark Arts class than he lets on at times." James opened _Transfiguration Today _and flipped to the page that described his son's final projects. "Deflection is a great dueling technique, and there's no doubt it could be incredibly useful, but have you ever tried asking about his Dark Arts curriculum?"

Lily nodded her head, annoyance radiating off her every feature. "Of course I have, and he always says it's just like Hogwarts, only with a dueling component. He recites countless spells that the class has him learn, and none of them sound bad, but I can tell he's holding back."

"Albus says the school isn't as bad as everyone thinks," James said. "Maybe next time we see him, we should sit down and ask him what exactly he knows."

"That's actually a good idea. Even with his I.C.W oaths, Albus could obviously tell us a great deal about Durmstrang. After all, he did lead the siege on the school during the Grindelwald Wars."

James smiled proudly. "Yeah, Grindelwald. I can't believe Harry knocked the old evil bastard off his pedestal."

"It's an amazing achievement." Lily frowned slightly as she noted some of the worn edges around the copy of Transfiguration Today. The magazine had been passed around a great deal as Sirius and Remus had wanted to come over and read the article themselves. "I think we should frame this and put it in the living room, what do you think?"

"I thought you wanted to send it to Minerva and Albus?" James asked.

Lily shook her head. "No, no, I think I'm going to order them both a copy of the issue. I think we should keep this one, it's an original first print."

"Okay, but are you sure Harry wouldn't want it hung in his room?"

"He might," Lily agreed, "but I'd like his first publication to be where everyone can see it."

"Alright, I'll frame it tomorrow."

Lily smiled, kissed her husband, and with a flick of her wrist, extinguished the lights. "Good night James."

"Night Lily."

**ooo0000ooo**

**Minerva McGonagall **

**Hogwarts, Aug. 6** **th**

With a barely disguised scowl, Minerva McGonagall angrily walked back from the Headmaster's office. The topic of their meeting had disturbed her greatly, and she now had to explain to her colleagues that the Dementors would be patrolling the grounds until Peter Pettigrew was caught.

Minerva couldn't blame Albus for saddling her with the duty to inform the rest of the professors, even though it was her busiest time of the year. She knew just how much Albus was juggling right now. The news of Peter's escape, along with the Minister's part in allowing the escape to happen, had caused a political storm at the Ministry and Wizengamot. Fudge was doing everything he could to 'rectify the horrible bureaucratic miscalculation,' which essentially translated to mucking up other people's lives even more.

Albus had tried to get the minister to reconsider the use of Dementors, but Fudge was adamant about being seen as doing something proactive in re-capturing Peter.

The thought of her former student caused Minerva's face to wrinkle in disgust. Peter had made his choice long ago. He wasn't the first Gryffindor to go dark, and, unfortunately, he wouldn't be the last.

Reaching her office, Minerva quickly went about organizing the last few letters to prospective Muggleborn students. Making a note of the students who were out of the country and needed to be visited by a professor, she went about the rest of her duties. When she got to the fifth year boys' prefects list, Minerva fought the urge to hiss at the prospects. For the first time in her 27 years as the Head of Gryffindor house, she had no idea who to select. The two most dominant figures in her fifth year class were Fred and George Weasley, neither of which could, or would even want to, be a good prefect. Unfortunately, the other three boys in their year were hardly exemplary, nor would they be able to control the twins.

Muttering a curse under her breath, Minerva penciled Alicia Spinnet in as the girls' prefect and left the boy's spot blank for the moment. Perhaps she'd speak to Albus later about amending the rules and allowing two girls to be prefects for that year. Angelina's grades certainly made her a viable candidate.

A soft tapping at her window caused Minerva to glance outside and notice a small brown post owl sitting on the ledge. Unlocking the window, the bird fluttered over and Minerva undid the small envelope tied to the owl's leg.

Noticing a note attached to the envelope, Minerva went back to her desk and put on her glasses.

_Minerva,_

_Read pages 5-8. I think you'll be impressed. _

_Lily _

Curious, Minerva removed a copy of _Transfiguration Today_ from the envelope and flipped to the pages Lily's note had mentioned. A single glance at the headline caused her eyes to widen, and she quickly sat down and began to read.

Fifteen minutes later, Minerva set down the magazine, torn between pride and disappointment.

Her feelings were rational, she supposed. Lily and James were two of her favorite students, and she was proud of what their son had managed to accomplish; however, a part of her was upset by what she read. While Minerva remembered overhearing Nathan mention to Hermione that Harry was excelling at Transfiguration at Durmstrang, she hadn't realized the extent the boy had progressed in such a short time.

Losing Harry Potter as a student had clearly been a blow for Hogwarts, and it saddened her that Harry felt he needed to leave in order to get the best education he could. Looking back over Harry's discovery and glancing at the picture of Harry and his new Transfiguration professor, Minerva couldn't help but wonder if she would have allowed Harry to achieve as much had he stayed at Hogwarts.

A part of her stubbornly said yes –that the truly great wizards don't need much instruction or direction.

Still, seeing Harry smile at his new Professor, Minerva wondered if she was being honest with herself. Harry might not have needed as much guidance as some of his peers, but that didn't mean he didn't like the companionship. Ultimately, the boy's loneliness was what drove him to Quirrell and out of Hogwarts.

Sighing, Minerva walked to her fireplace and pulled out some floo powder. "Filius!"

After a moment, the Charms professor's head appeared in her fire. "Minerva, what can I do for you? I was just sitting down for tea."

"I believe I have something you might be interested in seeing."

"Oh, very well," Filius said somewhat reluctantly. "Stand back, I'll come through."

Standing up, Minerva walked over to her desk and poured two cups of tea, and, a few seconds later, Filius had appeared in her office.

"Tea?"

"Thank you." Filius accepted the cup and easily transfigured one of Minerva's straight back chairs into something more comfortable.

"I thought you might like to see this." Handing her colleague the magazine, Minerva added, "The article begins on page five."

Intrigued, Filius began reading at the top of the page, after reading a few lines, his tea lay forgotten on the table.

"He crafted a Semi-Permanent Enchantment Receptacle... as a first year." Filius looked particularly pained as he continued to read. "Mr. Potter's placement test was one of, if not, the finest entrance examinations in the history of Durmstrang. The young man did things with a wand I would never have believed possible from an eleven year-old."

"And we didn't even know," Minerva muttered distastefully. "Such a waste."

Flipping to the next page, Filius shook his head at his former student's discovery. "Unbelievable. He's enchanting as a second year, and he actually found a use for a broken enchantment."

"Soon to be fifth year, Filius," Minerva corrected. "According to the article, Harry will be entering his fifth year in both of our subjects."

Not bothering to hide his scowl, Filius said, "Lady Ravenclaw is likely rolling over in her grave at my mistake."

"Filius, it is not your faul–"

"Don't say it Minerva," Flitwick interrupted. "I was derelict in my duty. Had I not, perhaps Harry would still be a Ravenclaw."

"You have over seventy students to look after Filius, and you alone cannot hold all the blame for what happened to Harry." Minerva countered. "He came to all of us for help. You weren't the only one who turned him away."

"Minerva, a part of me knows you're right, but I cannot help but feel I should have done more."

"You know what they say about hindsight Filius. Not even a time turner can alter the past. You should be happy that he has found his place at Durmstrang. All we can do is try to not repeat our past mistakes. Perhaps it was a lesson we all needed."

"Perhaps."

Deciding that there was no better time to bridge the issue, Minerva said, "While I have you here, there is another matter I must speak to you about."

"Oh?" Filius asked, finally taking a sip of his cold tea.

"I just spoke to Albus. It appears that Dementors will be patrolling the grounds for an undetermined amount of time."

Placing his tea back on the desk, Filius stood up and walked over to the floo.

"Filius?" Minerva asked in concern.

"I will return, Minerva," Filius said tiredly, "however, I sense I'm going to need a headache drought by the time this day is over."

**ooo0000ooo**

**Dumbledore **

**Hogwarts, Aug. 7** **th**

Walking out of the floo and into his office, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore removed the ash from his robes with the slightest flick of his wand. Ever since Pettigrew's escape, he had been bouncing between Hogwarts, the Ministry, and even the I.C.W in Geneva. The constant traveling and sleepless nights were exhausting, but also necessary. Removing the small time turner from around his neck, Albus contemplated going back a few hours and getting some rest before he needed to look over the applicants for the open Defense and Care of Magical Creatures positions.

The briefest whiff of sulfur gave Albus pause. It was as though something had been recently burnt.

A soft trill from Fawkes bolstered his resolve, and Albus pushed the odd thought to the back of his mind. Feeling better than he had in days, Albus stroked his Phoenix's back appreciatively. Noticing a few darkened feathers, Albus said, "Your burning day is approaching faster than I anticipated. Perhaps the battle with the Basilisk took more out of you than we suspected."

Fawkes playfully nipped at his owner's fingers.

"I know, I know," Albus said teasingly, "you're a mighty creature that fights Basilisks. You don't need anyone to look after you."

Bursting into flames, Fawkes disappeared for a moment before reappearing with a magazine between his talons.

"And what is this?" Albus asked with some amusement, accepting the magazine from his familiar.

Sitting down behind his desk, Dumbledore read the small note on the cover of the magazine from Lily Potter.

If anyone was watching Albus Dumbledore as he read the article on Harry Potter's achievement, they would have been surprised at the Headmaster's reaction to the article. Albus had always held himself as an educator first, and he was well-known for celebrating his students and friends' achievements. Therefore, it was very odd to see not even the slightest hint of pride on his face; however, while there was no outward sign of happiness, Dumbledore did not appear upset or disappointed in any way. The man simply read the article with a consistently blank face, devoid of emotion. The only sign that Dumbledore was even affected by what he read was the slightest hint of a twinkle in his eye as he read about his pseudo-grandson's discovery in Transfiguration.

As soon as he completed the article, Dumbledore set the magazine down and quickly wrote a congratulatory note to Harry for his achievement.

"Do you mind, Fawkes?" Dumbledore asked, holding out the letter to his familiar.

Fawkes looked hesitantly at his master and let out a burst of song before taking the note and flaming away to deliver the letter to Harry Potter.

With a sigh, Albus glanced towards his quarters with a despondent expression on his face. The people at Durmstrang weren't the only ones holding onto memories of Gellert Grindelwald.

Reaching into his robes, Albus removed a small time turner. He gave the device two turns, and felt goosebumps rise on his arms as the device's magic activated to take him two hours into the past. With a casual flick of his wand, he cast a privacy spell on his door and blocked his floo, before getting up and walking to his quarters.

Ignoring the various enchanted objects and devices that sat around his bedroom, Albus walked up to a small muggle portrait of a sailboat and waved his wand. The portrait began to warp and shift before Dumbledore's eyes, and a single shelf of books appeared before him. Removing a small leather-bound journal, Dumbledore re-transfigured the books and shelf back into the portrait.

Running a finger down the spine of the journal, Albus' blue eyes were devoid of their typical mirth.

In flawless German, Albus spat out, "Für das größere Wohl."

Without any other prompting, the book opened, prominently exposing the inscription on the first page for all to see.

_The magic and knowledge within this book is dedicated to the wizards and witches of the world. What we start here in Godric's Hollow shall spread across the world. I, Gellert Grindelwald, and I, Albus Dumbledore agree to pledge our lives, our magic, and our eternal souls to the achievement of the following principles:  
_

_That no Wizard or Witch should be forced to hide what they are. _

_That no Muggle should be free to harass, harm, or belittle those with magic. _

_That no Wizard or Witch shall EVER submit to the will of a Muggle, for they are the lesser beings._

_What we do now, is for the greater good. _

Turning the page, Albus stared at the small photograph of two young men standing shoulder to shoulder with broad grins on their faces. Albus watched impassively as Gellert laughed at something before putting his arm over a much younger version of himself. With narrowed eyes, Albus dropped the book to the floor and drew his wand.

With the tip of his wand pointing directly at the small book, Albus hesitated just momentarily before a burst of blue flames leapt from the deathstick, and the book immediately began to burn.

Albus' icy blue eyes reflected the fire, and he never looked away from the burning book until all that remained was a small pile of ash on the floor of his bedroom. With an impatient jab of his wand, Dumbeldore vanished the remains.

Letting out a breath he hadn't realize he had been holding, Albus began to prepare to get some sleep. Noticing his worn image in a mirror, he abruptly realized just how tired he appeared.

That simply wouldn't do.

He couldn't dwell on the dreams of the past any longer, not when the present needed him so very much.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Snape **

**Hogwarts, Aug. 13** **th**

Arriving just outside the gates of Hogwarts, Severus Snape looked around expectantly for the carriage that was supposed to take him up to the school. Biting back a scowl at Hagrid's incompetence, he cast a cooling charm on himself to make the wait in the summer heat more tolerable.

Nearly ten minutes later, Severus finally saw the carriage as it crested the hill and came into view of the Hogwarts gates. He did his best to ignore the two Thestrals that were pulling the object; the reptilian-like horses were always an unsettling sight. Opening the carriage door, Snape raised an eyebrow when he saw that the carriage was not as empty as he expected.

"Good evening Severus," Flitwick said pleasantly. "Hagrid mentioned he was to send this carriage for you, and I thought it might be nice to get out of the castle for a while."

Snape looked down at Flitwick with something between indifference and annoyance, but finally nodded his head affirmatively. "Indeed," he said before climbing inside the small compartment.

As the Thestrals began to turn the carriage around, Filius' smile faltered somewhat. "So, I understand you've been giving young Mr. Potter Occlumency lessons, Severus. How is young Harry progressing in the art?"

Fighting his own curiosity about the Charms teacher's motivation for the line of questioning, Snape reached out with Legilimency. He managed to sense the slightest bit of apprehension from Flitwick before the emotions abruptly vanished.

"I have never had great skill with Occlumency, Severus." Filius' tone had grown dark as he purposefully avoided Snape's eyes. "But while it has been a while since I've been on the dueling circuit, I can assure you that I remember perfectly well how to defend against Legilimency."

Snape cursed his rash decision – he should have known Flitwick would have been cognizant of Occlumency, if not versed in it. Legilimency was fairly common amongst world class duelists, and as a world champion, Filius would have had to learn how to overcome it. "If you know I am instructing Mr. Potter, then you should also know Albus has deemed it important to keep the lessons both private and secret. The Potters have many enemies, and with Pettegrew on the loose..."

"I am merely curious about how my old student is doing Severus," Filius looked indignant that he would do anything untoward with the information. "I was quite surprised when Minerva told me about Harry's interest in Occlumency. It's a very rare magic. I presume he is progressing well?"

After a moment, Severus said, "He shows a definite aptitude for the art."

Flitwick leaned back into the carriage chair and sighed. "He was quite a student. Has Minerva shown you his publication in _Transfiguration Today_?"

"I have not had the pleasure of reading the article." Snape paused before adding, "Though Lily did give me the highlights. She also informed me about his Potions project. Polyjuice as a second year is an impressive brew."

Nodding in agreement, Flitwick said, "Yes yes, I quite agree. It's definitely a N.E.W.T level potion. But I am curious Severus, has Harry ever mentioned anything about his time at Hogwarts to you?"

"I am not there to socialize with Mr. Potter, Filius," Snape said curtly as he mentally calculated how much longer it would take to arrive at the castle.

"Yes, of course not, I only meant that..." Filius dropped his head. "While Minerva might say it is not my fault, I am somewhat ashamed of the role I played in the events that led to Harry leaving Hogwarts. Severus, you've been inside his mind. Tell me, does he hold me responsible for the unpleasantness of his first term?"

"Even if I knew the answer to that question, I would not tell you," Snape said bluntly. "What I see in Mr. Potter's mind is not your concern." Filius blinked owlishly, and, reluctantly, nodded his head in understanding.

"However," Snape added, "I will say that every major memory I've seen of Mr. Potter has been at Durmstrang."

Flitwick blinked. "Surely not. I might not be the most able practitioner of Occlumency, but I know the theory quite well. When Mr. Potter had just started learning Occlumency, you should have been drawn to the memories that held the most emotion tied to them. Surely, his leaving of Hogwarts would have been one of them."

Severus glancing out the carriage window and was relieved to see them nearing the castle. "All the memories I saw were of Mr. Potter at Durmstrang. I cannot be certain, but, from his progress, it would not surprise me if Mr Potter had managed to subconsciously occlude his feelings towards Hogwarts." As soon as the carriage stopped, Snape opened the door. "If you are so concerned with Mr. Potter's opinion of you Filius, I suggest that you write him and find out for yourself. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have duties to perform."

Snape barely registered Flitiwick's reply as he entered the castle and quickly navigated the dungeon corridors until he reached his office. Locking the door behind him as he entered, Snape sat down behind his desk and removed a small journal from inside a drawer. Flipping to the front of the journal, Severus looked at the spell chain Harry had designed as a first year.

Next to Harry's chain, Severus drew another spell chain from memory. The second chain had never been published, and he could count on one hand the number of people alive or out of prison that knew of it. Slowly, Snape drew a line between the two chains.

It was eerie.

It was disturbing.

It was a mystery, and Severus Snape hated mysteries.

Removing the copy of Transfiguration Today Lily had sent him, Snape quickly flipped to the photograph of Harry and his Transfiguration professor. Ignoring the two men at the center of the photo, Snape watched as a very familiar girl moved into the corner of the photo for the slightest moment.

A freezing charm shot from his wand, causing the picture to become still.

Leaning in closer to get a better look at the black-haired girl, Snape knew she was the missing link. Potter had mentioned that his friend had helped him with his spell chain, and Snape knew from the boy's memories that she was the most likely candidate.

"Calypso," Snape said, testing out the name, "just who exactly are you?"

**ooo0000ooo**

**Calypso & Romulus **

**Location Unknown, Aug. 19** **th**

Falling unceremoniously on her bed, Calypso closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of her comfortable bed. She'd be leaving for Durmstrang in the morning, and she knew that Harry wouldn't arrive for a few days, which would leave her sleeping on a significantly less comfortable bed until he arrived.

The thought of Harry gave Calypso pause. They had exchanged a few letters, but the situation was tense to say the least.

A quick knock on her door caused Calypso to sit up. "Come."

Calypso watched her father casually walk into her room, his face surprisingly blank.

"Father?" She asked nervously. "Is everything alright?"

"I thought you might like to see this." Extending his hand, he handed his daughter a copy of Transfiguration Today. "Your friend made the cover."

Her eyes widening, Calypso turned the magazine over and her mouth dropped at the image of Harry laughing with Professor Rosemburg on the front of the magazine. Quickly turning to the article, Calypso smiled as she read about Harry's accomplishments.

Immediately after she finished, Calypso looked up at her father. Swallowing somewhat nervously, she asked, "This is good, right?"

"It's certainly impressive."

Annoyed that her father was avoiding her real question, Calypso said, "I know he's learning Occlumency an–"

"Yes." Romulus eyes' grew cold. "I noticed that you sent our _only_ book on mind magic to Britain. A country which, I will remind you, has laws allowing for the seizure of such books."

"Harr–"

"Is a Potter! No matter how famous their family might now be, they are not exempt from those laws like your uncle Lucius." Romulus took a breath, instantly calming himself. "It was a mistake on your part. Do you deny that?"

Calypso narrowed her eyes at her father. "Maybe if you didn't give him a practically impossible task to complete, I wouldn't have to help him."

"So now you believe him to be incompetent?"

"That's not what I said," she countered. "Occlumency books are so rare! How would he figure it out if–"

"Ah, I understand." Romulus nodded sagely. "He isn't incompetent, he's just not resourceful enough to solve his own problems."

"Father!" Calypso said heatedly. "I'm going to work with him when we get back to Durmstrang."

"Of course you will, you don't have a choice. By sending him that book, you've hampered your own development. Tell me, have you improved at all this last month?"

Calypso did her best to appear confident. "Somewhat, sir, I –"

"_Legilimens_!"

Completely unprepared, Calypso felt her vision drift and begin to fade into a very familiar memory.

Romulus replayed the memory several times before moving onto another. After seeing everything he wanted, he lowered his wand; Calypso fell to her bed, stifling a cry of pain.

"Pathetic."

As much as her mind hurt, Calypso knew her father wasn't talking about her Occlumency ability.

"You know I haven't made any decisions yet, correct?"

Doing her best to sit up, Calypso said, "Yes."

"If you're trying to force my hand..."

Her eyes widened, and she looked up at her father in horror. "But you promised. If...you said if I...that if he–"

"I know what I said." Romulus stared out a window looking troubled.

"I can get you more information on Nathan Potter." Calypso said quickly. "I'll...I'll find a way. Maybe when we're practicing Occlumency together."

Romulus snorted. "The boy hardly trusts you now, Calypso. No my dear, you've burned that bridge."

Seeing her father stand up to leave, Calypso dejectedly asked, "What will it take?"

Pausing at the door, Romulus angrily turned to face his daughter. "Do not pretend that this mess is anything but your own making. You want to know what you can do? Get me useful information, push yourself and him to improve, and do not meddle in my affairs and judgments. Our family has made some rash decisions in the past. I will not make another one."

As soon as her father left, Calypso picked up the copy of Transfiguration Today from her floor. She hoped Harry would understand, but that was asking a lot.

Truthfully, even she wasn't sure what her father wanted anymore. She was only certain of one thing - her father was right. She had been careless, lazy even. If she lost her only real friend because of her own stupidity...

Taking a deep breath, Calypso tried to do the exercises to clear her mind, but after a few failed attempts, gave up for the night.

Looking at the photo of her smiling friend on the magazine, Calypso stood up and placed it on the wall with a sticking charm.

"I'll see you soon, Harry."

**ooo0000ooo**

**Grindelwald **

**Nurmengard, Sept. 1** **st**

Days passed.

Seasons changed.

He grew old.

Staring out of his small window, Gellert Grindelwald watched the cold waves of the Norwegian Sea strike the side of his prison.

His prison.

The irony always bothered him - he supposed that was the point. While he had long ago questioned some of his own methods, Gellert would never get over the insult of being trapped by his own magic. Nurmengard was more than just a building; it was a work of art, a true magical masterpiece.

He had designed a prison so formidable and terrible – both from the inside and the outside – that the International Confederation of Wizards had deemed it too cruel to use on common prisoners. Only the leaders of his Dark Army had ever been imprisoned here. His army, more than any others, knew just how much effort their master had put into the spells guarding these walls.

There had been no escapes from Nurmengard. No one had even dared to attempt it.

The ICW had once asked their own enchanters to add protections to the prison, afraid that Grindelwald and his men would know some hole in the magics that would allow them to escape.

It wasn't necessary.

Truly Grindelwald's mind, one of the greatest in the history of wizardry, had continually upgraded and improved upon his prison over the entire course of his campaign. Gellert knew of every enchantment he placed on Nurmengard, and he knew there was no way around them. When the ICW first sent their team of enchanters to increase the security for his cell, they thought they found several flaws in his containment spells, as Grindelwald knew they would. They tried to correct the flaws, only to spend their last moments alive wondering why their necks were bleeding.

In the years that would follow, no less than five guards were killed as they attempted to fool around with the prison's enchantments. The last death led to the virtual abandoning of the upper levels of the prison; house-elves were left to deliver food and remove any waste from the few surviving prisoners.

It was a bit of a surprise, then, to hear the sound of footsteps on the cold stone floor. Only the base of the prison had any guard presence and Gellert knew he was the sole surviving occupant of the prison, and no one ever came to visit him.

The sound of footsteps grew louder and louder until Gellert saw several Aurors through his cell's bars.

"Johann, William, keep your wands trained on Grindelwald at all times." The Auror paused before adding, "Orders are to stun only."

Curious about the sudden influx of visitors, Gellert asked, "May I ask why I have the pleasure of your visit?"

As soon as the first word left his lips, Gellert felt a surge of indignation. His once smooth and cultured voice was now weak from disuse. He hadn't had a reason to have a conversation with anyone since Dmitri Blagojevich died almost three years prior.

"Orders from the higher ups." The lead Auror said, eying Grindelwald with thinly veiled disgust. "Take two steps out of the cell, Grindelwald. And do it slowly."

Grindelwald reluctantly complied, eying the lead Auror with a dark glint in his eye. As soon as he was clear of the cell, and the unforgiving enchantments placed upon it, the Auror captain muttered a soft incantation.

Recognizing the spell, and knowing it would have no effect, Gellert said, "I can assure you, captain, I am no Animagus." Grindelwald fought a grin at the sudden stiffening of the captain and his subordinates. "But I do admit to being curious as to why you would check for that talent now?"

Seeing no harm in answering, a younger Auror replied, "The Brits went and fucked up. Lost a prisoner who was an animagus. The I.C.W. wants to make sure you didn't get any ideas about trying to make an escape. Not that it matters. You probably wouldn't survive the transformation. Hell, you look half dead already old man."

Gellert stared at the young Auror, his Occlumency perfectly concealing his cold fury. He knew prison hadn't been good to him. The poor food and exposure to the frigid environment were slowly killing him. The fact that he'd managed to live as long as he had –long beyond many wizards and witches who were younger and better treated than him in the prison– was a testament to his magic and his willpower. Still, while his mind was just as sharp as the day he was thrown into prison, his body hadn't fared as well.

His hair was the first to go. His blond locks fell from his head only a few months after he was locked away in Nurmengard – to this day Gellert suspected his rapid hair loss was the result of some botched poisoning attempt by the guards. Years without access to hygiene charms had caused his teeth to rot in his mouth, his fingernails to turn yellow with poor nutrition and possibly some kind of fungus, and the the continued exposure to the elements and poor food resulted in his body thinning dramatically, until he had become the skeleton of a man that he was now.

His piercing blue eyes, sunken into the depths of his skull, were the only feature that time had not faded. Perhaps it was fate's cruel joke that he would be blessed with perfect vision, yet have nothing to see besides the never-ending waves of the Norwegian Sea crashing against the base of his prison.

His eyes still locked on the smug young Auror who had dared to insult him, Gellert quietly commented, "There was a time when I would have ripped off your jaw for speaking to me in that manner. Do be careful on your descent back down to the first floor. The prison's enchantments – _my_ enchantments – have proven dangerous to your comrades in the past."

"Back into your hole," the captain ordered, growing more uncomfortable with the exchange. He watched as Grindelwald walked back into his small cell before he stepped forward and manually closed the cell doors. "Johann, William, head downstairs. I'll be right behind you."

The two younger Aurors gave one final glance at the now grinning Grindelwald before turning around and leaving him.

"Going to curse me, captain?" Grindelwald asked once the other Aurors had left. "I admit it has been some time since an Auror has vented his rage upon me."

"Don't get your hopes up. I have no desire to curse the half-dead." The Auror smiled slightly. "Besides, from what I hear, your mind is just as sharp as the day you were caught. Sitting around all day and contemplating your fuck ups, knowing you'll never get a chance to rectify your mistakes or reshape the world like you wanted is probably a better torture than any curse I could come up with." A slight smile appeared on the guard's face as he continued to looked at the feeble prisoner. "Tell me old man, would you care for some recent reading material?"

Gellert did his best to appear indifferent, but it was difficult. He could feel the Auror's emotions through Legilimency, and he knew the man was greatly enjoying taunting him. Still, Gellert would take any new reading material he could get. Normally, he was only given a new book every year on April 8th – the anniversary of his famous defeat to Albus Dumbledore. The fiction stories were always the most boring, poorly written, and ill conceived pieces of literature in the world – honestly, who would believe an elite school of assassins would be in _Canada_? – and he had long wished for some kind of connection to the outside world.

The soft thud of a magazine being dropped into his cell brought Grindelwald's attention back to the Auror. "I would suggest that you start on page five. You should find the topic entertaining."

Reaching down, Grindelwald greedily snatched up the magazine in his hands, never breaking eye contact with the Auror until the man turned and left.

Returning to his small cot, the former dark lord was pleasantly surprised to discover the magazine in question was a fairly worn, but recent, issue of _Transfiguration Today_. Unable to hide his interest in what feats of magic had been pioneered over the last half century, Grindelwald quickly flipped open the magazine and began to read it from page one.

As soon as he read the headline on page five, Gellert understood why he had been gifted this particular magazine. His eyes took in every word of the article. He read and re-read about the young magical prodigy at his old school.

"You finished yet old man?"

Gellert turned to see the young Auror William, the one who had insulted him, had returned; he sported a typical arrogant smirk on his face. He immediately turned his attention back toward the more deserving magazine.

"No."

"Well I'm afraid your time's up. Captain sent me up to get the magazine back. You're not allowed any contraband in your cell." Removing his wand the Auror lazily said, "_Accio magazine_."

Holding the magazine between his hands, Grindelwald easily fought off the Auror's weak spell.

"What the hell?" The Auror said in surprise. "_Accio magazine_!"

Once again, Gellert felt the magic wash over him, and, yet again, the summoning spell failed to even tug at the magazine in his grip.

"What are you doing old man?" The Auror demanded. "Turn over the magazine immediately!"

"No."

"_Accio magazine_!"

Grindelwald smiled and he turned his back to the Auror, gleefully turning the page to re-read Harry Potter's interesting final projects.

"_Accio magazine! Accio magazine_!"

"Are you quite done?" Grindelwald asked in a bored tone. "My desire to keep the magazine far surpasses your desire to take it. Therefore, you're extremely unlikely to be able to overpower me for it. Has the magical education system really fallen so much since my imprisonment that you never learned such a basic concept?"

"_Accio Grindelwald_!"

Gellert laughed for the first time in years. Turning around, he slowly stood up and faced the Auror. "Regardless of what my body might appear, my magic remains quite strong. If you think you can overpower _me_ with a summoning charm, you're deluded."

Noticing that Grindelwald was standing less than an arms length away from him, the enraged Auror reached through the bars and grabbed the front of Grindelwald's tattered clothes. Pulling the old man closer, the Auror snapped, "Give me the magazine."

"Why should I?" Grindelwald hissed maliciously. He was inches from the Auror's face, now, and the sudden awareness of just who this prisoner used to be – and still was – hit the young Auror faster than the old dark lord's hideous breath; Grindelwald didn't even have to use Legilimency to sense the sheer terror that was radiating from boy in front of him.

With all his strength, the Auror pushed Grindelwald away, sending the old man tumbling backwards and falling into the stone floor.

"Captain said we shouldn't bother cursing you," the Auror said shakily, slowly gaining back some confidence at the sight of the fallen Grindelwald, "but I think you're just asking for it."

Ignoring the pain in his back from the fall, Grindelwald hid a smile and pushed himself as far back into the cell as he could.

Drawing his wand, the Auror extended his wand arm between the bars of the cell to get a clean shot off.

The sound of a piercing scream, quickly followed by a blaring alarm, alerted the Aurors at the base of the tower of a cell's defensive measures being activated. The four man response team raced up the stairs to the only occupied cell. Upon arriving, they found their comrade writhing on the ground. The young Auror's face was covered in blisters and his right arm was severed at the shoulder. Glancing inside the cell, the Aurors saw a pile of ash just inside, and a content looking Gellert Grindelwald sitting on his cot, casually flipping through a magazine.

"I did warn the boy." Grindelwald spoke up ominously, surprising the Aurors. "I told the boy that my enchantments were quite dangerous. Honestly, reaching through the bars with a wand." Grindelwald scoffed with a small smile on his face as the armless Auror moaned in pain. "Surely this simpleton knew there was a reason I had to be checked for magic _outside_ of the cell."

Gellert watched as the Aurors quickly stunned and levitated their colleague away. The Aurors would get their revenge, he was certain. They'd sabotage his food, or tell the house elves to remove his bed's sole blanket. Still, the look on the arrogant boy's face when he realized what a huge mistake he had made was quite priceless. Yes, he might have made some mistakes in the past, but that didn't mean the undeserving didn't need to be put into their place. For the Greater Good, indeed, he thought, a content grin twisting his lips at the thought of his old slogan.

With a smile on his face, Grindelwald flipped back a page to the photo of Harry Potter and his Transfiguration Professor.

"Thank you for the entertainment this evening, Mr. Potter," Grindelwald said to the waving figures in the photograph, "and my deepest congratulations."


	12. Questions Asked, Answers Given?

**Secrets Revealed**   
**Durmstrang, (Aug. 23rd)...**

Walking up the main staircase at Durmstrang, Harry quickly made his way through the familiar castle.

Harry knew he would be in trouble for leaving for Durmstrang early, but he just didn't care. He wanted to find out what Calypso had to say and sitting around at home thinking about it for a few more days would be pointless.

Besides, he had grown tired of his brother's attitude. Nathan had not only remained distant over the last few days, but Harry also caught him casting suspicious looks at him every now and then. The tension was present at every meal, and Harry was sick of it. He'd rather be at Durmstrang than putting up with whatever issue Nathan had with him at the moment.

His mother might send him a Howler, but Harry wasn't concerned with that. He'd send his parents a letter explaining why he left, and, hopefully, that would keep them from sending one. Even if they did though, it wasn't like the Howler would reach him. He wasn't sure why more students didn't learn how to cancel the magic that created those awful letters, but he wouldn't let some enchanted parchment embarrass him in front of his peers.

After dropping off his trunk and belongings in his room, Harry quickly made his way down the girls' corridor. Surprised at the amount of students already at the school, he weaved his way through the corridor until he reached Calypso's room. Knocking twice on the door, he waited impatiently for Calypso to answer.

The door opened a few moments later, and Calypso's eyes widened in surprise at seeing him.

Before Harry could ask her to show him the parchment, he felt the slight push of Legilimency against his mind. Instinctively, he cleared his mind and met her gaze. When her probe didn't recede, Harry grew annoyed and began projecting his anger and disappointment at her. Almost immediately the invasive feeling against his mind vanished, and Calypso looked slightly abashed.

"Do you want to come it?" she asked, opening the door, and revealing the standard, spartan, Durmstrang room. While Harry had managed to teach her the charms to expand her room and bed the year before, Calypso was not completely comfortable with how long her own receptacles would last.

Walking inside, Harry took a seat on Calypso's small cot. "How long have you been a Legilimens?"

"For a while. It was one of my first bouts of accidental magic." Calypso shifted on the heels of her feet before quickly adding, "Your Occlumency is impressive. I started working on it a little this summer as well, and, well, I'm still not that comfortable with it."

Harry nodded his head before carefully removing the book on mind magic Calypso had sent him from inside his coat pocket. "Thank you for the book."

Calypso smiled and relaxed somewhat. "You're welcome. I didn't expect you to be this advanced though. I actually thought we would work on Occlumency together since it's nearly impossible to learn from theory, you must have had a great tutor."

Growing slightly tired of the small talk, Harry said, "I did."

"Was the rest of your summer good? I know we didn't talk muc–"

Taking a series of calming breaths, Harry cleared his mind, completely repressing his growing impatience. "Calypso," he said evenly, "you know why we didn't talk much. I've mastered Occlumency, and I'd like to know what the big secret is now."

Calypso was slightly taken aback by Harry's empty tone, but she quickly recovered. "Okay Harry, but I need to tell you something first."

Looking completely impassive, Harry simply raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"I didn't ask you to learn Occlumecy to protect your mind from a Legilimens." Calypso bit her lip and fidgeted slightly. "I mean, that's a great benefit, but that's not why I wanted you to learn it."

Blinking in confusion, Harry slowly said, "I don't understand. Why did you want me to learn Occlumency if not to protect myself from a Legilimens?"

"Harry, I needed to know that you'd listen to what I say and not freak out. Occlumency allows you to have an incredible amount of control over your emotions. Just look at yourself right now, you're completely calm."

"I'm not," Harry snapped suddenly, causing Calypso to jerk away in surprise. Doing his best to reign in his anger, Harry took several calming breaths. "Learning Occlumency was one of the most difficult experiences of my life, Calypso. Having your mind ripped into is incredibly painful! Now, are you seriously telling me that you could have used a bloody calming charm on me instead?"

"Harry, I'm sorry that it hurt, I really am." Growing more and more uncomfortable as she watched her friend's face slowly morph from rage to complete detachment, Calypso quickly added, "When I told my father about our fight, and that you found out about the parchment, I didn't know what to do. You weren't supposed to find out about that parchment."

"Why not, Calypso?" Harry demanded. "What's the big secret?"

"It's not a secret, Harry." Calypso stood up and paced her small room. "I was going to tell you, but...not for a few more years. When you saw it, I knew what it probably looked like, and I could feel just how suspicious and angry you were with me over the last month of term. I just didn't know how to explain without making the situation worse."

As Harry followed his friend's uncharacteristically rattled pacing, he began to realize just how nervous Calypso truly was. Maybe it was him arriving to Durmstrang early to seek out answers, or perhaps it was her inability to use Legilimency on him now, but Harry could almost feel his friend's anxiety. "Calypso, I'd like some answers now."

Nodding her head, Harry watched as Calypso walked to the small desk across from the cot Harry was sitting on. Removing a piece of parchment from the desk, Calypso took a deep breath and, after a moment, appeared to calm somewhat, though she was still a far cry from the collected Calypso he was used to seeing. After spending most his summer practicing Occlumency, Harry recognized that she was trying, and failing, to use Occlumency to clear her mind.

"Here Harry," Calypso said, handing him the parchment. After a casual glance at it, Harry confirmed that it was indeed the same piece of parchment he had seen twice before. "This parchment is the culmination of all my research on you and your family. I did the research to show my father you could be a good candidate for a potential marriage contract."

At first, Harry thought he must have misheard her, but when he looked up from the parchment and saw Calypso looking nervously at him, he knew he hadn't. No amount of Occlumency could have prepared him for the onslaught of different emotions that hit him in that moment. His eyes widened and the parchment slipped from his hands onto the floor.

Seeing her friend's reaction, Calypso quickly said, "Harry, please say something."

When he remained silent, Calypso met his eyes, and Harry once again felt her trying to use Legilimency on him. Knowing that he would never be able to keep the various emotions he had bottled up, Harry broke eye contact with her, stopping the connection.

"A marriage contract?" He asked looking down at the floor. "You want to marry me? You actually want to _marry_ me?"

Had Harry been looking up, he would have seen Calypso flinch slightly at the question. "Harry, it's complicated."

Snapping his head up, Harry looked right at his friend. "But you just sai–"

"I know what I said," Calypso said tiredly. Walking over to Harry, Calypso sat down next to him on the small cot – slightly pleased that he didn't move away from her. "But...you weren't supposed to see this. It's only research, and it doesn't mean a lot. My father probably won't make a decision until I'm older. It's just... when you saw the parchment, I didn't know how to explain it. I wasn't sure how you'd take it. I can barely stand to think about it, and I've had most of my life to get used to the idea, so I had no idea how you would react."

Harry shook his head in utter disbelief. "You're seriously telling me that you had me learn Occlumency just to tell me that this parchment doesn't matter? I don't know if I actually believe that. What aren't you telling me?"

When Calypso couldn't meet his eyes, Harry's anger and suspicions came roaring back. "Tell me the truth Calypso!"

"You're my friend, Harry," Calypso spoke so quietly that Harry barely heard her add, "and I don't want to lose that."

Months of suspicion, anger, and uncertainly finally boiled over, and Harry angrily stood up and drew his wand. Slashing his wand across his body, Harry sent Calypso's rickety wooden chair flying into the far wall of her room. The chair smashed into the stone wall, breaking off two of its legs and sending wood splinters across the room.

Before he could even think about finishing off the chair, Calypso quickly stood up. "For fuck's sake, Harry! What do you want to hear? That I like you? I do! I know father would never consider you as someone he'd send a potential marriage contract to, so I found information on you to show him just how good of a candidate you were. I wanted you to ask me out, and then maybe in a few years when I had to actually deal with this fucking marriage thing, it wouldn't have been as big a deal!"

The moment Calypso stopped speaking, her eyes widened comically, as if realizing who she just revealed that information to, and her pale face flushed in embarrassment.

His hands suddenly feeling sweaty, Harry could only stare at Calypso in disbelief. "You... you like me? I- really?"

Calypso could only sit down, bury her face in her hands, and nod, not wanting to further embarrass herself.

Using every technique Snape ever taught him, Harry did his best to control his emotions. In a moment of clarity, he acknowledged that perhaps learning Occlumency for this discussion wasn't such a bad idea after all. "Why me?" he eventually asked.

"What do you mean?" Calypso asked, looking up in confusion.

Doing his best to suppress his embarrassment, Harry asked, "Why do you like me?"

Calypso took a moment to compose herself, but she couldn't stop a slight blush from appearing on her face. "Before you got to Durmstrang, I didn't like it. I was the daughter of an infamously dark family, who tested into a third year Dark Arts class. I didn't get along with anyone until you showed up, but since then the last few years have been some of the best of my life. I like practicing to become an animagus with you. I enjoy seeing us claim the top spots in our classes while the rest of our year watches in jealousy. You're my friend...and, I just like you."

Harry couldn't help but feel a little proud that Calypso thought so highly for him, but he was more than a little concerned about the possibility of a marriage contract. "Err, can you tell me anything about the marriage contr–?"

"Harry," Calypso interrupted, "I don't know if that's a good idea."

Giving Calypso a slightly suspicious look, Harry asked, "Why?"

"Harry, you weren't supposed to know about any of this. I didn't think I would have to deal with this until the end of my fifth year. It's not something I like talking about, and I just..." Calypso trailed off looking uncomfortable with the topic.

"I guess I understand," Harry said after a moment.

Calypso looked up at Harry with a small smile. "Thank you."

"Promise me that you're not keeping any other secrets though." Harry said, staring into Calypso's eyes.

Meeting her friend's eyes steadily, Calypso said, "I'm not."

Harry didn't know why, but, at that moment, he felt that Calypso was telling the truth, yet something still seemed a bit off. Brushing the thought aside as angst from the marriage contract, Harry smiled and trusted his friend.

Years later, he would look back upon that as his first use of Legilimency.

ooo0000ooo

**Gifts Galore **   
**Durmstrang Library, (Sept. 14th)...**

Over the next few days, Harry begrudgingly admitted that Calypso was right in asking him to learn Occlumency. While he was able to initially disregard thoughts of a marriage contract, Calypso admitting she liked him persisted for a while. Every time he saw Calypso, Harry just couldn't help but feel a little awkward around her. If it wasn't for Occlumency, he probably wouldn't have been able to meet her eyes due to embarrassment. Fortunately, Occlumency allowed him some leeway in controlling those emotions, but that didn't mean it wasn't on his mind at times.

Sitting across from Viktor, Harry once again found himself contemplating whether he should ask his friend for advice.

"Umm excuse me, Mr. Krum?"

Glancing up from his Transfiguration book, Harry resisted the urge to hex the impudent first year. After a blowout victory against the Russians, Viktor had officially been ordained as the next great Seeker by the international Quidditch community. His friend's continued success had skyrocketed his popularity at Durmstrang, and many students now looked up to him as if he were a god.

At first, Viktor had found it slightly humorous how the people who had once treated him like dirt suddenly were bending over backwards just to sit near him at lunch, but the humor had quickly diminished.

Without looking up at the first year, Viktor took out a piece of parchment, scribbled his name, and tossed it at the boy.

"Thank you." The boy gushed. "My sister thinks you're the best player in the world. She's only seven you know, but she'll be coming to Durmstrang in a few years. Do you think you could maybe give her an autogra–"

"Hey," Harry snapped, causing the boy to cease his babbling, "can't you see we're trying to study. Leave."

The boy looked like he was about to protest before he noticed just who was talking to him. The first year took an instinctive step back, muttered a quick apology, and quickly ran back to his table.

"Your reputation proceeds you, Harry." Viktor grinned.

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes at his friend. Even before the welcoming feast, Harry had overheard people whispering his name wherever he walked. His surpassing Grindelwald's academic mark had been huge news across Central and Eastern Europe, and Harry had been the subject of rumors immediately upon his return to the school. As Harry had become accustom to ignoring whatever his peers said about him, when the rumors of his cursing students that interrupted his study time emerged, Harry did nothing to correct them. If anything, he appreciated that particular rumor since it kept many of the more inquisitive students from pestering him with questions.

Doing his best to get back to work, Harry said, "You should learn how to say no to them Viktor."

"He was just a first year," Viktor replied. "If it was an upperclassman, I would have told them to piss off."

"Doesn't matter. The little peons are all going to be asking for your autograph now. It'll only be a matter of time."

"Doubtful." Viktor grinned. "No one would dare interrupt me while I study with the great and powerful Harry Potter."

"Then why is your fan club on its way over here," Harry said distastefully.

Viktor turned around and openly scowled at the five fourth-year girls that were heading right for their table.

Noticing that the subject of their infatuation was paying attention to them, the girls giggled and quickened their pace.

"Hi Viktor," Virginia Newton said with a huge smile. "What are you doing?"

"We were studying," Harry dropped his transfiguration book into his bag. "Until you interrupted us."

Virginia hesitated when she looked at Harry, but a subtle nudge from her friend seemed to give her more courage than the first year Harry had scared off earlier. "Oh, well, that's good. We were going to study now. How about we all study together?"

"We were just leaving, weren't we Viktor?" Harry said pointedly.

Viktor nodded and grabbed his bag.

"Oh, well, maybe another time then?" Virginia asked lamely.

Ignoring the girl, Harry and Viktor left the library.

"I swear I'm going to curse one of them," Viktor muttered, doing his best to ignore a passing group of sixth years who were shamelessly staring at him.

"You could probably get away with it, too."

Viktor continued to aimlessly follow Harry down the corridor. "So could you."

Harry shook his head. "Doubtful...well, maybe, depends on which professor caught me."

Viktor rolled his eyes at his friend's understatement. The professors had gone out of their way to celebrate Harry's academic achievement. A good hour of the welcoming feast was practically dedicated to Harry with each professor giving a detailed explanation of his final project before they gave him their elaborate gifts.

The most practical –though no less expensive– of the gifts Harry had received came from Professor Rosemburg, who got Harry a rare, self updating, History of Transfiguration. The book was practically the definitive history of Transfiguration, and it explained the basic roots of the art in ancient Greece all the way to the most modern theories. Harry had been especially pleased to discover his theory had already been included in one of the latter pages of the book.

While Professor Rosemburg's gift was simple and elegant, other professors seemed to go out of their way to get extravagant gifts. Professor Kosarev had created a fully enchanted magic carpet, and Harry had a standing appointment with him to learn how to enchant it. Viktor, while initially doubtful that the carpet could match his broom, had taken the carpet on a test flight and immediately fell in love with the increased maneuverability the carpet granted him in the air.

Professor Kral had gotten Harry a brand new gold cauldron, something that Harry knew cost well in excess of 100 Galleons while the History Professor, Professor Cristof, bought Harry a very impressive chess set with the pieces being famous wizards and witches.

Not all Harry's gifts were great. Professor Cherny, infamous for not giving out decent gifts, had lived up to his reputation and simply handed Harry a homework planner and a gift certificate to a bookstore Harry had never heard of in Norway. Harry was later told that was probably the most effort Professor Cherny had ever put into giving a gift to a student younger than a fifth year.

While Harry appreciated all his professors' presents, the most impressive gift was given by Professor Rosier. The Dark Arts instructor had walked up to Harry with a small vial and asked him to lean forward. With only the slightest bit of trepidation, Harry complied.

Dipping his wand into the vial, Professor Rosier drew out a swirling white mist and placed the tip of his wand against Harry's temple. The mist, still attached to the wand tip, seemed to pool around Harry's head for just a moment before it was absorbed through his skin.

After all his work with Occlumency over the summer, Harry could immediately feel something wrong tugging at his mind. Curious, Harry sought out where the feeling had come from and found himself remembering something he had never witnessed before.

At first, Harry wasn't even sure what he was remembering. He recalled standing in a field, the freezing cold gusts of air blowing all around him. A short distance away, there were two wizards facing each other.

After they both took a calm bow, they raised their wands, and magic seemed to explode everywhere. The few observers who had foolishly stood too close were quickly torn apart as the violent spells and curses ripped the battlefield around the wizards to shreds.

Harry recognized perhaps one or two spells; however, the quick wand-work and silent incantations made it extremely difficult. In fact, Harry was so taken by the magic on display that it took until the red-haired wizard was blasted across the battlefield closer to Harry's view point that he understood what memory he was recalling at the moment.

It was the redhead's eyes that gave him away. Harry had only seen such crystal blue eyes on one other wizard, Albus Dumbledore. Harry could do nothing else but stand dumbstruck in the middle of the Durmstrang Great hall as the 'duel of the century' between Dumbledore and Grindelwald played out in his mind.

Then, in a blink of the eye, the memory faded, and Professor Rosier was withdrawing the silver mist from Harry's temple.

Harry knew he must have looked like a zombie as he mindlessly walked back to his place at the table next to Viktor and Calypso, but his mind was a thousand miles away. The sheer power and viciousness of the magic he had witnessed had left him humbled and awed, but Harry had also never been more inspired.

"Harry where are we going?" Viktor finally asked, looking around the seldom used first floor corridor.

"I am sick of being pestered by people, Viktor. I know you didn't ask for all this attention when you started playing Quidditch, but it's started to bug the hell out of me."

"I'm sorry, Harry," Viktor said apologetically.

Harry waved his friend off immediately. "It's not your fault, so don't apologize. The bottom line is people are bothering us when we should be studying. There's only one solution to our problem."

Viktor's eyes grew wide when he noticed where Harry was leading him. Lining the walls were the magical portraits of the previous Durmstrang Highmasters, a suit of armor standing on guard between of them. "Harry," Viktor practically hissed, "why are we in the Highmaster's Hall?"

Harry smiled. "The Professors weren't the only ones to give me a gift. The Highmaster sent me an owl on the second day of class with his office's password. He said if I ever needed anything, I could talk to him. Well, Viktor, we need a private room to study."

"Because of my fans?" Viktor asked skeptically.

"Well, not entirely," Harry admitted. "I'm sick of Kira and Calypso having a go in my room during our Animagus training, and since both of them refuse to let the other into their room, and, and I mean no offense, I can't meditate in your room."

"Why?" Viktor asked in confusion.

Harry frowned. "You mean besides the various alerts you've set up to report Quidditch scores from the world cup? Or the periodic owls that swoop in from your teammates, coaches, and fans? Or how about the–"

"Fine." Viktor interrupted. "We need a private room."

"Glad you see it my way." Reaching a pair of large doors with a golden etching of the Durmstrang crest above it, Harry said, "Excellence above all."

The two doors swung open and the two boys looked at each other for a moment.

"After you, Viktor."

ooo0000ooo

**Grindelwald and The Next Step**   
**Private Room, (Sept. 21st)...**

Scribbling a large 'P' at the top of a fourth year's essay, Audemar Rosemburg tossed the last essay onto the stack. Leaning back in his chair, Rosemburg withdrew his wand and casually cast the _tempus_ charm, causing the time to appear in front of him.

"Damn it," he muttered when he glanced at the floating numbers.

He was almost ten minutes late.

Cursing his incompetent fourth years for not being able to write in a clear and coherent manner, Rosemburg quickly stood up and stepped out of his office, locking the door with a nonchalant flick of his wand.

Typically, Rosemburg would be the last professor willing to take a meeting with a student outside of his classroom or office, but he wasn't meeting with a typical student.

Harry Potter was a brilliant student whose potential far exceeded anybody he had ever taught. The boy's successes during his first and, especially, his second year had given him a level of notoriety never before achieved by a half-blood at Durmstrang.

Beginning the walk up the large main staircase, Rosemburg couldn't help but marvel at the boy's improvement over the summer. It was well known that fifth year classes had the highest attrition rate. On average, only half the students in fifth year Transfiguration would be allowed to advance into the sixth year class, a number Rosemburg knew was in line with his colleagues' standards. It was often joked that fifth year should be renamed 'the culling' as the professors set ever increasing standards for any student who wanted to advance. One of the most difficult challenges was the requirement that students begin to cast silently.

Rosemburg had actually been concerned that Potter might not be up to silent casting as it required both a higher command of magic and emotional discipline – something 13 year old boys did not commonly posses. Surprisingly, his concern seemed to be unnecessary as Harry Potter was the first to pick up silent casting in his class, further distinguishing himself from students several years older than him.

As several of the students Potter surpassed flickered through Rosemburg's mind, he continued walking down the hallway toward Harry Potter and Viktor Krum's new private room.

The thought of Krum caused Rosemburg to repress a scowl. He wasn't sure why Potter had chosen the Bulgarian as a friend, but the two couldn't have been more different people. He still remembered Romulus Rosier entering the staff lounge at the end of last term muttering about how Krum had barely scraped through into the sixth year Dark Arts class, having only the most basic ability at silent casting.

Of course like everyone else in Europe, Rosemburg had followed Krum's spectacular rise as a Quidditch player, but, unlike Krum's legion of loyal fans, he was curious to see if the boy would even be able to pass his classes – it wasn't like playing professional Quidditch would sharpen Krum's already lackluster wand skills. After receiving Krum's summer transfiguration homework in August, he would have bet anything that the boy would have failed out of Durmstrang at the end of the year. Unfortunately, the Highmaster had foreseen such a problem as well, and Karkaroff thought expelling Europe's latest Quidditch prodigy was simply unacceptable. Since Krum simply couldn't afford to fail any more of his classes, the Highmaster ordered the professors to schedule "every extra available time to give private assistance to Krum," something Rosemburg openly told Krum he was loathe to do.

Stopping at the door between Goreman and Grundel, Rosemburg steadied himself before saying, "For the Greater Good."

When he had first heard that the Highmaster had shown Potter and Krum how to access Gellert Grindelwald's private room, Rosemburg had been incensed. Trying to remove the room from the school had taken the lives of two curse breakers, and, regardless of what Karkaroff said, no one was completely sure that the numerous curse breakers had removed all the harmful spells from the room. Rosemburg was certain that it was only the sheer amount of Notice-Me-Not and Aversion charms placed around the door that kept the students from investigating the room and likely getting themselves killed in the process.

Opening the door, Rosemburg allowed himself a moment to take in the main hallway. Grindelwald had been a master enchanter, and the opulence of his room was incredible. The high vaulted ceilings and large Greco-Roman columns made entering the room seem like stepping into an ancient imperial palace. Famous pieces of art from all over Europe were stuck to the walls by unbreakable sticking charms while tapestries taken from the Middle East told the story of how wizards came to rule the Ottoman Empire in the 10th century. The arched ceiling was painted with scenes depicting Grindelwald's dark army's successful campaigns across Europe and North Africa.

The soft echo of his feet on the pristine white marble was the only sound the Transfiguration professor heard as he walked the massive entryway. Having been shown Grindelwald's room when he first started teaching at Durmstrang, Rosemburg knew that there were several concealed doors that lined this hallway. The doors led to several luxurious bathrooms, a decent sized library, Grindelwald's personal bedroom, a full study, and a large meeting hall. At the far end of the entrance way, he saw the massive clear glass window that partially opened to a grand patio, and presented an absolutely stunning view of Durmstrang's grounds and Quidditch pitch.

Noticing that his hands were shaking somewhat, Rosemburg balled his hands into fists to get them to stop. He still remembered sitting in the Main Hall when the Dark Lord had executed Professor Reinhart and claimed the Highmaster position. The next several months were a truly horrifying experience. Several scholars had written on the time period, but no book could ever completely convey the sheer terror the students felt every day.

For six months, the most powerful and evil man in the world had run his war from Durmstrang, and Grindelwald had no qualms about killing any dissidents in the school. Looking back on it, Rosemburg knew it was a tactic to break the pockets of resistance that had formed throughout Central and Eastern Europe. After all, who would dare challenge Grindelwald's authority when they knew the Dark Lord was sleeping not a few doors away from your child or the child of a relative or friend.

Shaking away the dark memories, Rosemburg forced himself to walk down the hallway and open the door to Grindelwald's study.

Immediately spotting his best student looking nervously at the time while talking to Romulus' daughter, Rosemburg announced his arrival by saying, "I apologize for my lateness, Mr. Potter. We had best do this as quickly as we can since I believe you have class starting very soon. I take it Ms. Rosier will be here to assist you?"

"Yes, sir, though she's made a lot of progress herself," Harry said confidently before raising his wand and tapped it against Calypso's right arm.

Instantly, Calypso's arm sprouted thick brown fur and expanded several times its natural size. Her hand soon followed, immediately twisting and contorting, leaving the girl with a large brown paw complete with sharp claws.

Rosemburg carefully inspected the transfiguration for any flaws. Not finding any, he asked, "And you feel no pain at all, Ms. Rosier?"

"None sir," Calypso replied. "It feels completely natural." To prove her point, Calypso flexed her new arm a few times and took a couple of swipes with the large bear paw.

Rosemburg nodded his head, quite pleased with transfiguration. "Very well done, Mr. Potter, and you say you are capable of doing self-transfiguration at the same level?"

"Yes, sir."

"Remarkable." Rosemburg favored his best student with a rare smile before turning to Calypso. "You wished to show me your progress as well?"

"Yes, sir." Calypso said with only the slightest hesitation. "I can transfigure large individual parts of the body like fingers, maybe even a hand, but I'm not able to make complete changes like Harry does."

"Show me," Rosemburg said, not bothering to hide his skepticism of the girl's claims.

Before Rosemburg could raise his wand to counter the transfiguration on Calypso's wand arm, Harry nonchalantly flicked his wand, reversing the transfiguration – he never noticed his professor's eyes widen at the casual display of untransfiguration.

Drawing her wand, Calypso smiled slightly when Harry raised his left arm for her to transfigure. Doing her best to focus on the transfiguration, Calypso took a deep breath and tapped her wand against Harry's hand. The slightly audible crack of the bones caused Professor Rosemburg to frown and remove his wand. With a flick of his wand, the transfiguration immediately reversed, leaving Harry rubbing the back of his hand.

"Sloppy, Ms. Rosier." Rosemburg said, carefully inspecting the back of his favorite student's hand as if to ensure that no lasting damage had been done. "How badly did it hurt, Mr. Potter?"

"It's was a fairly sharp pain, sir," Harry said honestly, "but it was no worse than when I was at the same level. Calypso's improved a lot, I don't think you needed to stop the Transfiguration."

"I seriously doubt Armando would be pleased if I sent you to Charms class both late and injured," Rosemburg said flippantly before turning to address Calypso. "You need more practice, but, provided you do so, I don't see a reason why you cannot continue onto the next step with Mr. Potter. However, you should know that you will never complete the transformation if you do not drastically improve upon your transfiguration skills."

"I'll keeping working at it, sir," Calypso said seriously.

"Do that." Rosemburg said dismissively. "Now, Mr. Potter, the next step in the process is optional, and you are free to ignore it if you wish; however, I believe it is of great value." Seeing that his student was paying very close attention, Rosemburg continued, "There has never been any firm proof that a person's personality directly reflects their animagus form, but strong correlations have been shown in several studies."

Harry couldn't help but recall how his father and uncle Sirius would comment on how their animal forms fit their personality. "I believe that's true sir."

"Excellent. Then the next step for you is to take some time to understand yourself. Contemplate what makes you, you." Seeing the rare flicker of confusion cross his student's face, Rosemburg sighed. "Unfortunately, I can not give you much more direction than that. There is no easy way to go about this, Mr. Potter. However, if it were me, I would start by creating a list of my obvious personality traits and talking to my closest friends – too often we overlook things that others see clearly in us, and your friends should be able to help you with that. Once you believe you have a firm grasp of your personality, you can attempt your first transformation."

"But how will we transform if we don't know what we are supposed to transform into?" Calypso asked immediately. "Do we need to meditate to find our form or take a potion?"

"Ms. Rosier that is possibly the stupidest thing I've heard in a long time," Rosemburg said bluntly. "If there was a potion to find your form, I daresay that animagi wouldn't be so rare. As for your other thought, if the process was a matter of meditation, please explain to me why I bothered to have you learn advanced human transfiguration?"

Ignoring the abashed look on his student's face, Rosemburg turned to Harry and said, "Managing your first transformation will likely take a while. What you need to do is keep in mind those attributes which define you, and will yourself to change."

"Will ourselves?" Harry asked. "How exactly?"

"The Animagus transformation is...not a type of magic you will learn in school." Rosemburg said, struggling slightly to explain the concept. "It's old magic, a magic that requires a deeper level of understanding and control. Honestly, there is a chance you might simply be too young to command your magic in such a fashion."

"So, it's kind of like sensing magical traces in a way?" Harry asked curiously.

Raising a curious eyebrow Rosemburg said, "I wasn't aware you knew of such magic, Harry, but, yes, on a very basic level, the animagus transformation is similar. Both require the individual to have a strong sense of self and to manipulate magic on a level far deeper than simply wand waving. Again, I must warn you to be careful when attempting to change yourself, and, above all, should you feel a change occurring, do not, under any circumstances, fight it. Horrible things have happened to people who panicked or tried to stop the magic whilst undergoing the change into their animal form."

Harry and Calypso both nodded, but Rosemburg narrowed his eyes. "I am deadly serious about this, Mr. Potter. People have died when they unexpectedly changed for the first time. Fear is a powerful emotion and a sudden change to your very being can easily cause a burst of fear driven accidental magic. It is best if you do not even attempt to transform without someone competant, preferably me, present. I trust, of course, that you have successfully taught Ms. Rosier the Homorphus Charm just in case you need emergency assistance?"

"I can cast it, sir," Calyspo said.

"Very well then. Mr. Potter, if you have any additional questions, you are free to ask me, but if not, I believe it's time I get you to Charms. Armando will be quite cross should you miss the entire lesson."

"I'll get started writing out my characteristics," Calypso said as Harry and Rosemburg stood up to leave.

"It might be best if you begin by writing down your thoughts of Mr. Potter, Ms. Rosier," Rosemburg said casually. "I've found that few people are able to accurately describe themselves without giving into a positivity bias."

"Err, yes sir, I'll start on that," Calypso said.

"Good. Now, Mr. Potter, we had best get you to class."

"Yes sir," Harry said, following Rosemburg out of the room and into the fourth floor boys' corridor.

"You improved a great deal over the summer. How often did you work on your transfiguration?"

Harry couldn't help but grin. It seemed that his Occlumency practice over the summer prepared him to adapt well to silent magic. Occlumency allowed one to become very aware of their emotions, and silent magic was especially driven by the caster's emotional intent. By using Occlumency to channel the proper emotion, Harry was able to generate a high quality silent spell.

"Not as often as I would have wanted, sir," Harry admitted, "but I had a very intense project I was working on, and I think the results have helped me this year."

"Well, whatever you did, keep it up. This type of improvement is impressive. I honestly cannot ever recall seeing someone adapt as flawlessly as you have to silent casting, and, believe me, I am not the only professor that has noticed. Tell me, did you even recognize that you silently untransfigured Ms. Rosier's arm?"

Harry blinked. He hadn't noticed.

Seeing the look on Harry's face, Rosemburg chuckled in amusement as they approached the Charm's classroom. "You are a truly impressive young man, Mr. Potter."

Opening the door, Rosemburg led Harry into the room where the students were paired up and trying to silently cast a shield charm. Harry spotted Viktor in the corner of the room looking a little ragged. His face had some light hex marks on it, and his robes were singed slightly.

"Armando," Rosemburg greeted pleasantly, "I apologize, but my meeting with Mr. Potter ran longer than I expected."

Kosarev looked up at the pair, but was soon distracted by a nearby student taking a stinging hex to their face. Apparently too busy to mix pleasantries, Kosarev quickly said, "Mr. Potter, can you cast the shield charm silently?"

"I'm sure he can, Armando," Rosemburg said before Harry could speak. "I personally watched him perform a silent partial human transfiguration not twenty minutes ago."

Doing his best to clear his mind, Harry fought the urge to blush at his professor's praise. Rosemburg rarely complemented a student's performance, and several students' in the room had stopped their spell casting to look enviously at Harry.

"What are you all staring at!" Kosarev snapped the moment he saw the class had stopped casting. "Get back to work! Thank you for delivering Mr. Potter, Audemar. Mr. Potter, please take Mr. Flemming's spot and begin working with Mr. Krum."

Nodding his head, Harry walked over to Viktor. "Bad class?"

"The worst," Viktor muttered distastefully. "Do you want to go first? Or should I?"

"You can cast first, it looks like you need a break anyway."

Nodding his head in thanks, Viktor raised his wand and silently sent a stinging hex at Harry, who raised his wand and blocked it with a silent Protego.

Viktor looked enviously at his friend for a moment before he shook his head ruefully. "You must teach me Occlumency,"

"I don't think you'd say that if you knew how painful and time consuming Occlumency is to learn," Harry muttered distastefully. "Besides, with everything you're doing right now, I doubt you'd have the time to learn it properly."

Viktor had one of the most intense schedules Harry had ever seen. Immediately after his last class, he would use an international Portkey to take him to Bulgaria's training facility in Varna on the Black Sea. After a grueling three hour practice, he would Portkey back to Durmstrang, giving himself just enough time for a quick dinner, a brief private meeting with a professor or two, and then an hour on homework before literally passing out in his bed.

Victor scowled as he continued to send stinging hexes at his friend, each one blocked by a perfectly executed Shield Charm.

"You'll catch up, Viktor, you're just out of practice," Harry said encouragingly. "I know I saw you cast a silent shield charm at the end of last year. It's just a matter of confidence. Now, are you ready to try?"

Taking several deep breathes, Viktor prepared to defend himself. Receiving only the slightest of nods to signal that he was ready, Harry fired off a quick stinging hex. Instinctively, Viktor raised his wand and thought _Protego_. A slight flicker of a shield appeared in front of him, but the moment the stinging hex struck it, the shield dissipated and the spell continued on to hit Viktor in the chest.

"Alright, I believe that's enough for today everyone," Kosarev said, calling the lesson to a close. "Since Mr. Potter seems to be the only person who is at all capable of casting a decent shield charm, I'd recommend you all go back and read chapter three in your books. I will personally be testing your shields during our next class, so be prepared."

Quickly grabbing his things, Viktor stormed out of the Charms classroom in frustration. Harry caught up to his friend at the top of the main staircase and the two of them silently walked down the boys' corridor, but while Harry stopped outside of Grindelwald's door, Viktor continued walking towards his own room. Viktor hadn't fully embraced practicing in Grindelwald's room, and while he would go there if Harry asked him to, he wouldn't spend his free time in the room if he could help it. Sighing, Harry said, "For the Greater Good."

Walking through the main entrance way and into the library, Harry saw Calypso sitting at a desk writing something on a piece of parchment. Reasonably sure that he knew what Calypso was working so hard on, Harry walked over to her and looked over her shoulder at the parchment.

"Is that for me?" Harry asked, his eyes widening at the large list Calypso had compiled on the parchment.

"Yes." Taking out another piece of parchment, Calypso said, "You need to get to work on mine, and remember what Rosemburg said, be honest."

Dropping down into an open chair, Harry grabbed a quill. "Alright, I guess I'll get started."

**oooOOOooo**

**Harry's Room, (Oct 3rd)...**

_Harry, _

_I'm sorry that it's taken me so long to reply, but Sirius, your mother, and I have been bouncing back and forth from home to the Ministry and Hogwarts ever since a Muggle called the police saying she spotted someone who looked just like Peter near Inverness. While the Minister still refuses to remove the Dementors, Albus has been open to our suggestions on how to close the secret passageways into the school. Now, I know you wanted Nathan to study some of the spells you left for him, but, at the moment, I think he's trying not to think about Peter and the threat he poses. I have spoken to your uncle Remus, and he said Nathan has expressed an interest in possibly learning the Patronus Charm to drive off Dementors. Your mother and I are hoping that once he starts practicing more advanced Charms, Nathan will begin to focus more on some protective magic._

_Speaking of charms, I should mention that I bumped into Filius after leaving Dumbledore's office. He was standing outside the gargoyle with four girls who looked exceptionally nervous. Remus later filled me in that they had been caught picking on an eccentric second year in Ravenclaw and Filius was not pleased to discover that they had been doing so for most of the girl's time at Hogwarts. _

_It would seem that since you left Hogwarts, Flitwick has taken a rather stern approach towards his own house – he has apparently taken more points away from them then Snape this year. Minerva confided to your uncle that Filius was not pleased to discover the problems you had within Ravenclaw while you were at Hogwarts, and he has begun holding his students to much higher standards inside and outside the classroom. _

_Also, while I didn't get a chance to speak to Filius much, he did ask me to forward his congratulations. It seems that Filius was really impressed by the article in Transfiguration Today. Perhaps you should write to your old professor, Harry. I think he'd like to hear from you, and you never know, he might give you an idea for a future final project. _

_I hope everything is going well for you so far this year at Durmstrang. Have you had any ideas for your final projects yet? _

_Write if you need anything. _

_Love, _   
_Dad _

Putting the letter away, Harry couldn't help but be glad his uncle Remus had taken the position as Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts. When he had first heard about the Dementors around Hogwarts, he had been shocked. His mother had written and, after yelling at him for both leaving early and missing his uncle Remus' party for being named the new Hogwarts Defense Professor, explained just why they were there, but the entire situation made Harry nervous.

The news about Professor Flitwick was interesting as well. Harry hadn't thought much about his old Head of House since he had left Hogwarts. Glancing at his Charms notebook, Harry decided that maybe a letter to Flitwick would be a good idea.

**oooOOOooo**

**Bats in the Belfry **   
**Grindelwald's Room, Oct 18th...**

It was impossible. Well, obviously, that wasn't true, but it was certainly improbable.

And yet, it happened.

Viktor Krum, the person who had to repeat his first year Transfiguration class. The person who could just barely cast silently. The person who, admittedly, would rather play Quidditch than study, had, in his first ever attempt, found his animagus form.

The small bat that was Viktor Kurm was frantically flying around Grindelwald's library as Harry, Calypso, and Kira watched in stunned amazement.

"Do you think he knows how to transform back?" Calypso asked as Viktor continued to fly haphazardly around the room.

"I doubt it," Harry said his eyes fixed on the frantic creature. "If you can hit him with an Impedimenta or Immobulus, I'll cast the Homorphus Charm on him."

The two spells quickly flew from Calypso's wand, hitting the bat and freezing it in the air. A moment later Harry cast the Homorphus Charm, and a fully human Viktor Krum fell to ground. Kira immediately canceled Calypso's immobilizing spells and rushed to Viktor's side.

"Are you alright?" She asked, frantically looking him over as if to make sure no parts were missing.

"I'm fine," Viktor said shaking his head. "That was...unexpected."

"How did you find your form so quickly?" Harry tried to keep the envy out of his question, but he was having a very hard time understanding how his friend had transformed.

"I-I can't really explain it," Viktor admitted. "I tried doing what you said. I was thinking about what I felt most defined me, but I became distracted and just started thinking about how much I would rather be flying. I remembered the thrill of catching the snitch against Turkey, and then I remembered what I was supposed to be doing and I concentrated on changing. I wasn't sure what happened, but the next thing I know, my mind was filled with the image of a bat. I saw it flying, using its echolocation to find its prey, and I felt...happy. The next thing I know, I'm flapping my wings, and I'm practically blind. It was incredible, I couldn't see anything a few inches away from my face, but I knew where everything in the room was. When Calypso raised her wand to send the spells, I felt them leave her wand, and I knew I could have dodged them, but I assumed that you were trying to help and I let them hit me."

Harry listened carefully to everything Viktor said. Glancing over at Calypso, he thought he saw a flicker of annoyance before she schooled her face into indifference. Taking a deep breath, Harry used Occlumency to clear his mind. Viktor had found his form, and while he was proud and happy for his friend, Harry was now more determined then ever.

**What the Eyes See and Ears Hear...**   
**Dark Arts Classroom, Oct 31st...**

Today's Dark Arts class was going to be different. There was a feeling of excitement and foreboding in the air as the students waited for Professor Rosier to begin his lecture. Most of the class had been waiting for this lecture since the first day of class, and there wasn't a single seat without a student in it. The few fifth years that would mention anything about what the lesson was like for them last year all said the same thing, that today would be the most memorable Dark Arts class of their lives.

Harry wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

At exactly eleven o'clock, Romulus stood up from behind his desk. He waved his wand, and a single word appeared on the board behind him.

_Unforgivables_

The class waited with baited breath, quills ready to take down exactly what their teacher had to tell them.

"You all believe yourself to be practitioners of the Dark Arts," Romulus said, his tone leaving no one in doubt as to what he thought of such a claim. "In truth, you are all nothing but children. So far, I have taught you spells to hinder, terrify, and to defend yourself, but all of the curses that you have been taught are nothing. They are the tools of children wishing to be adults. Well, today marks the end of your childhood. From now on, I will treat you like adults, and hold you to the same expectations of adults. If you do not think you can handle that, leave now."

No one moved, Harry wasn't sure if anyone had even dared to breathe.

"I see. You all feel that you are ready to become adults. That you are capable of understanding the raw power of the Dark Arts. You know nothing." Romulus locked eyes with some of his students. "None of you have beheld the destructive force of Fiendfyre. You've never witnessed an army of Infiri storm a battlefield, or seen a Basilisk hatch. You sit in this classroom and you think you are learning the Dark Arts." Rosier snorted in disgust before turning his gaze to Harry.

"Potter. Name me one of the unforgivables."

"The Cruciatus Curse, sir." Harry replied. "The incantation is Crucio."

"Yes, the Cruciatus Curse," Rosier said, his voice eerily quiet, yet still managing to carry throughout the room. "A spell designed to cause an indescribable amount of pain in its victim. Many have tried to find a use for the spell beyond its destructive nature, but I assure you, there is none. The Cruciatus does not help psychic shock or assist coma patients. The Cruciatus is used for one thing, and one thing only, to cause agony in those unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of it."

Turning his back to his class, Romulus went back to his desk and brought a fairly large box to the front of the classroom. Romulus opened the lid and levitated out a small brown-haired puppy.

Harry felt his stomach lurch. Calypso had warned him not to eat anything at breakfast this morning, and now he knew why.

"_Crucio_," Romulus snarled, and, immediately, the small puppy let out a horrible, heart-wrenching, yowl of pain.

Harry watch as Romulus held the curse on the small creature until blood started oozing from out of the puppy's mouth. After another minute in which the puppy stopped making any noise and just continued twitching, Romulus released the spell.

"How many of you wish to leave now?" Romulus asked coldly.

Harry did. He wanted to leave and not come back. The poor puppy was just staring out into space, it was like there was nothing left. The curse had turned a vibrant, happy, puppy into a living corpse, and he wanted to throw up.

"Potter! Name me another unforgivable," Romulus demanded.

Knowing exactly what Romulus was planning on doing, Harry looked up at his professor and said, "I don't know, sir."

Romulus appeared annoyed before a dark smirk made its way onto his face. "Really? How very... disappointing. Why don't you assist me in a demonstration then, Potter. I'm sure you would benefit from it."

Harry knew it was more than a command, it was an ultimatum. Slowly, Harry stood up and walked to the front of the class. He was close enough to see the two remaining puppies inside the box Romulus had brought with him. They looked terrified.

"Since I believe more than a few people, my daughter included, would be upset if I demonstrated the killing curse on Potter here, someone tell me the remaining unforgivable," Romulus asked the class at large.

"The Imperius Curse, the incantation is Imperio," A plump girl named Melissa spoke up.

"Correct, Ms. Davenport. The Imperius Curse, a spell that completely subjugates the will of another person. It is the only unforgivable that may be fought off; however, it requires a keen mind and a great deal of will power to do so. Shall we see, Mr. Potter, if you have such will power?"

Harry nodded stiffly, recognizing the challenge. As Romulus raised his wand, Harry idly wondered if Calypso had known he would try to do this to him.

"_Imperio_!"

Much like Legilimency, Harry felt the spell hit him and try to exert a foreign presence into his mind. He fought the spell, but, slowly, a strange sensation began to wash over him. It was...bliss. It really did feel wonderful, like there was nothing in the world to care about.

_'Curse one of the puppies in the box'_

Wait...what? Why would he want to do that? The puppies were rather cute.

_'Curse one of the puppies in the box!" _

Well, maybe they were just a little too cute. That was deserving of good cursing, right?

Harry slowly started to raise his wand, but, as soon as he did, he began to falter. It didn't make sense, why would he want to curse a puppy?

_'Do it! Curse the puppies!' _

"No," Harry moaned, dropping his wand and falling to his knees.

Suddenly the peaceful feeling disappeared completely, and Harry remembered where he was. He felt several people helping him to stand up, and he got to his feet unsteadily.

"Impressive, Potter," Professor Rosier commented. "Very few people have the strength of will to fight the imperius curse that well on their first attempt."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said wearily as he slowly returned to his seat.

"Oh and Potter," Romulus called out just as Harry was about to sit down.

"Yes, sir?"

Romulus stared right into Harry's eyes. "The final unforgivable?"

Knowing nothing would stop Romulus from finding out the answer, Harry sighed softly. "The killing curse. The incantation is Avada Kedavra. It's... usually, always fatal."

"Yes," Romulus muttered darkly. "Usually it is. _Avada Kedavra_."

With a burst of green light, the puppy that had endured the Cruciatus died.

The class sat in silence as Romulus looked at the shocked and frightened faces of his students. Some of them tried to hide their fear, but he could still see it.

"From this point on, you are no longer children. As adults, I make you this offer; I will give anyone who wishes it, a chance to cast the Imperius or Cruciatus curse on me right now, and I will not try to avoid it; however, if your spell fails, I will cast the same spell on you."

The students immediately began muttering amongst themselves, wondering if anyone would take up Romulus offer.

Harry knew better than to volunteer. The unforgivables were powerful dark magic, and you would have to be a complete idiot to think you could just wave your wand, speak an incantation, and expect the spell to work on the first attempt.

"I'll try it."

Harry glanced at the speaker and snorted. Devin Montague was the younger brother of Graham Montague, a student at Hogwarts. Devin was an above average duelist, but he was far from one of the best students in the class. Harry figured he was volunteering to make a name for himself or to impress Professor Rosier.

"Take your shot, Mr. Montague," Romulus invited.

Devin took a deep breath before snarling, "_Crucio_!"

Harry's eyes widened at the boy's stupidity.

The spell struck professor Rosier in the chest, and other than making him wince for a moment, there was no noticeable effect. "A poor effort, Mr. Montague," Romulus muttered. "Now, let me show you how it's done. Crucio!"

The class watched as Professor Rosier held Montague under the Cruciatus for several seconds. Devin's screams filled the classroom and caused several people to look like they were going to be violently ill. Harry held no pity for the boy though, unlike the puppies, Montague had practically asked for this by being stupid.

Romulus released the spell, and Devin curled up pathetically into the fetal position crying softly.

"Are there any other volunteers?" Romulus asked.

No one spoke up.

"Very well then. For homework, read chapter 13 in your book on the Unforgivables. Class dismissed."

Harry tried to quickly make his way from the room, but Romulus called for him to remain.

Once the rest of the room had cleared out, Harry approached his teacher's desk.

"Your reputation for charms is well known, Mr. Potter. Tell me, have you had a chance to study illusions?" Romulus asked curiously.

"Of course," Harry responded.

"Then you know how to dispel one?"

Harry nodded affirmatively.

Romulus smiled. "Then if you would. Please remove the illusions from the puppies."

Surprised, Harry cast the spell and quickly jumped away from Professor Rosier's desk. Instead of adorable puppies, there were now two vicious baby acromantulas, with their pincers and teeth bound, in the box. Romulus canceled the spell on the dead puppy, revealing it too was an acromantula.

"I have found that most people see the torture and death of a puppy to be far more reprehensible than that of a spider," Romulus explained. "That said, my daughter has always been a dog lover, and I must, on occasion, improvise. I trust this will remain between the two us?"

Harry nodded his head, relieved that a puppy wasn't tortured with the Cruciatus.

"Did you enjoy today's class?" Romulus asked curiously.

Unsure of what to say, Harry decided to be respectfully vague. "It was interesting, sir."

"Would you like to try your hand at any of the curses?" Romulus asked. "I seem to have two rather vicious creatures I need to dispose of soon."

"Err...no, sir. I-I don't believe I would be able to cast any of those spells."

Romulus simply nodded his head. "I see. Well, Potter, best be off with you. Wouldn't want to be late to your next class."

**First Steps **   
**Grindelwald's Room (Nov 10th)... **

Harry couldn't focus, not today. Peter had broken into Hogwarts and managed to make it all the way to the Gryffindor Common Room before being spotted. In fact, the only thing that stopped him from walking into the Gryffindor Common Room and killing Nathan was that he hadn't known the password, and the painting had refused him access. Peter had become enraged and violently slashed the portrait with a knife before escaping from the school.

"It will be alright, Harry," Viktor said.

Pacing the floor of Grindelwald's study, Harry wasn't convinced. "How did he get into the school? My parents told Dumbledore to ward all the secret passageways. It just doesn't make sense."

"You said he could turn into a rat, correct?"

Harry nodded.

"Then he most likely just walked into the castle. A rat is very small and hard to notice at night."

"You're probably right, Viktor, but that doesn't make me feel better. It's not like you can ward an area against Animagi."

Trying to turn his friend's attention away from the bleak looking situation, Viktor tried to veer the subject away from Peter. "What did your brother say? Did he apologize for not taking your suggestion to learn spells over the summer?"

Harry snorted. "No. While he mentioned that he's started to learn some offensive spells, he never once said that I was right and he was being an idiot for listening to Weasley."

"At least he is learning the spells to protect himself now," Viktor pointed out. "I'm sure he'll apologize over the holiday to you."

Harry was prepared to debate that when the two boys heard a loud crash followed by the sound of Kira's laughter. The two shared a look before drawing their wands – anything that could make Kira laugh like that was likely at Calypso's expense, and they didn't want to walk into the middle of an impromptu duel.

Quickly making their way across the hall and into the library, where Kira and Calypso were trying to find their animagus form, Viktor and Harry were prepared for many things, including the two girls at each other's throats. What they weren't prepared for though was the sight of Calyspo rolling face-down on the ground in agony while Kira laughed hysterically in a nearby chair.

Rushing over to Calypso, Harry racked his mind to think of what curse could cause this kind of reaction in his friend. However, it was only after Calypso rolled around and Harry got a clear look at her face that he realize what had happened.

Calypso's face was a horrid mix of human and animal features. The girl's normally pale skin had shifted several tones darker and her hair had clearly shrunk and thickened. Her nose was a disgusting shade of purple and looked to be broken in several places while her lips had practically been stretched across her face. A small trail of blood was leaking down the right side of her mouth and onto her right cheek, which was puffed out and covered in crisscrossing scars and stretchmarks, making it grotesquely disproportionate to the left

When Calypso met Harry's eyes, he was momentarily stunned to see the sheer amount of agony that shone through her bloodshot eyes. As a painful moan reverberated in the back of the girl's throat, Harry immediately began the wand movement and practically screamed out, "_Homorphus_!"

A jet of scarlet and blue light exploded out of Harry's wand, striking Calypso in the chest, who immediately let out another moan of pain as her features began shifting and reversing back to normal. A few seconds later, Calypso let out a soft cry.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, terrified. "Do you need to go to the hospital wing?"

Calypso quickly shook her head, slowly running her fingers over her face as if to check that it was back to normal "N-no. I think, I think I'm okay." Looking up into Harry's concerned eyes, Calypso raised her face closer to his and quietly whispered, "Thank you, Harry. Thank you."

Suddenly feeling need to swallow, Harry felt a growing sense of anticipation as Calypso continued to slowly lean closer to him.

"You should have left her, Potter," Kira called out, causing Harry to quickly turn his head away from Calypso. "I think all that practice really paid off Rosier, your animagus form really brings out the inner you. An ugly cuntish littl–"

Before he knew what he was doing, Harry practically leapt to his feet and fired a silent flinging hex at Kira.

Unprepared for such a quick and violent reaction, especially from Harry, Kira took the spell in the chest and was forcefully thrown clear over the desk she had been working at and into a bookcase.

Before Harry could even realize what he had just done, he was thrown to the ground a few feet from Calypso, and his wand flew out of his hand. Turning around, he saw his wand sail into Viktor's outstretched hand. A rapid movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and Harry saw Calypso scramble forward and raise her wand. A shield charm immediately appeared protecting him just in time as a blue and yellow spell crash into it – Kira had seemingly recovered from being thrown into the wall, and, judging from the enraged look on her face, she did not appear happy.

As Calypso raised her wand to send a retaliatory spell at Kira, Viktor screamed, "ENOUGH!"

Kira and Calypso stopped moving, though their wands were now aiming directly at the other's head.

"Harry," Viktor said angrily, "come with me, we need to talk."

Glancing between the two girls who looked like they were only seconds away from unleashing hell on each other, Harry said, "Viktor I don't think that's a good ide–"

Taking a several purposeful strides forward, Viktor practically pulled Harry up from the ground and said, "We are going to talk now." After a moment's hesitation, he extended his arm hand, offering Harry his wand back.

Noticing that Calypso was watching him very carefully out of the corner of his eye, Harry accepted his wand and his shoulders sagged. "Alright Viktor, let's go."

As Harry followed Viktor out of the room, he had to stop suddenly as Viktor turned around just short of the door. "Are you two going to be able to act civilly around each other while we are gone?"

Receiving nothing besides a blank stare from Kira and a slight scowl from Calypso, Viktor shook his head and walked out of the room, seemingly giving way to the inevitable. Harry followed him down the main hallway and back into the study. As he closed the door, Harry heard Calypso's voice shout out a particularly painful vomit inducing hex."

As soon as the door was closed, Viktor snapped. "Just what the fuck were you thinking sending that spell at Kira?"

"Did you even see what happened to Calypso!" Harry retorted. "You know how dangerous the animagus transformation can be, and Kira had no right to say that after Calyp–"

"What Kira said was no worse than what they typically say to each other." Viktor said, cutting Harry off immediately. "They would have simply screamed insults back and forth like they always do. But since you had to get involved and send _my girlfriend_ flying into a wall, they are probably now in that room trying to kill each other!"

Viktor saw Harry drop his head somewhat. Sighing, he asked, "What the hell were you thinking Harry? For fuck's sake, I almost cursed you when I saw that spell slam into Kira. You're damn lucky I was able to send a cushioning charm at the bookshelf before she hit it."

Realizing that he could have seriously hurt Kira and that he had, inadvertently, prompted what was probably a very bad fight between Kira and Calypso, Harry felt his anger dissapate. "I'm sorry Viktor. I was just really worried about Calypso. I remembered what Professor Rosemburg said about the dangers of the animagus transformation, and I was scared that something terrible had happened. When I heard Kira taunting her, I guess I just snapped. I'm sorry."

Narrowing his eyes slightly, Viktor seemed to appraise Harry for a moment.

Not sure what his friend was thinking, Harry found himself curiously looking up at Viktor. When he met Viktor's eyes, he felt a sudden rush of anxiety and hesitancy.

"You like her, don't you?"

Shaking his head slightly, Harry tried to process both Viktor's question and the strange feelings he just experienced.

"Kira? I mean, she's, well, she's very –" Harry asked with wide eyes.

Viktor barked out a laugh. "No, Harry. Not Kira. Rosier. You like her, don't you?"

Harry felt his face heat up somewhat. He couldn't deny that he had begun thinking differently about Calypso, but the idea of a marriage contract was something he was not prepared to deal with. Still, for a moment there in the library, he thought Calypso was going to kiss him, and if he was being honest with himself, he was kind of disappointed that it didn't happen.

Seeing his friend's face redden slightly and taking his continued silence as confirmation, Viktor sighed. "It had to be her," he muttered before saying, "Harry, I understand if you have some feelings for Calypso, but you can't attack Kira just because she says something... even if what she said was callous. There have been plenty of times I've taken exception to what Calypso has said to Kira, but you don't see me throwing curses at her."

Almost reluctantly, Harry nodded his head.

"I promise I will talk to Kira, but you know that by cursing her, you've just made the situation between those two a lot worse, right?"

Realizing that Viktor was probably right, and that Kira and Calypso's animosity for each other would probably only increase after this fight, Harry said, "I'm sorry Viktor."

Viktor waved off his apology. "As long as it doesn't happen again, we're okay, but Harry," Viktor's voice dropped an octave, "if you ever curse my girlfriend again, I won't hold back and use a simple expelliarmus, understand?"

His eyes widening somewhat, Harry quickly nodded.

"Good." Viktor said softly. "You're my friend Harry, and I know Kira can be a bit much at times, but please try to –"

Hoot Hoot

Turning their heads to the only window in the bedroom, the two boys spotted a large horned owl flapping its wings outside.

"Is that for you?" Viktor asked.

"I don't know anyone with that kind of owl. Maybe it's from one of your team mates or coaches." Harry paused and smirked somewhat. "Or maybe it's another love letter from one of your fans."

Happy to move on from one of the first real arguments with his friend, Viktor playfully pushed Harry and walked over to the window, letting the bird fly into the room. Expecting it to land on his outstretched arm, Viktor was surprised when the owl ignored him and flew over to Harry.

Curious as to who was writing to him, Harry untied the small letter.

_Harry, _

_It was smashing to hear from you. I've been meaning to write you for some time, but I'm sure you're aware of the problems we had at Hogwarts last year, and, unfortunately, this year isn't shaping up to be much better. _

_I suppose I should start by saying how terribly sorry I am for not being as good a head of house to you as I should have been. I should have spotted the problems you were having adjusting at Hogwarts, and recognized your true potential when you asked me for help. Know that it is one of my deepest regrets that you felt you needed to leave Hogwarts to get the best education available to you._

_With that said, I'm so very proud of what you have so far accomplished at Durmstrang. Minerva lent me her copy of Transfiguration Today, and I was amazed not only by your discovery, but also at your final projects for Charms. Enchanting is one of the most difficult aspects of charms, and for you to have succeeded at such a young age... well I'm just flabbergasted._

_While I know that your mother is a charms mistress in her own right, if you ever need an extra opinion or help, I would be honored to assist you. _

_I wish you nothing but the best Harry. _

_Filius Flitwick _

"Who is it from?" Viktor asked.

"My old Charms Professor at Hogwarts." Harry handed Viktor the letter to read. He had long ago told Viktor about the problems he had at Hogwarts, and there was nothing really private in the letter that required him keeping it a secret.

When he was done reading it, Viktor gave Harry back the letter. "Will you take him up on his offer?"

"Yes," Harry said immediately. "I'm going to need his help for my charms project this year. It's actually one of the reasons I wrote him in the first place."

Viktor looked surprised. "You know what you're doing already? You typically wait till after the Christmas break to decide on your final projects."

Harry smiled. "Did you ever take Astronomy, Viktor?"

"No."

"Well, back at Hogwarts it was a core subject, and practically since its inception, Ravenclaw House always had the best students in it. Our success in the class wasn't because we studied harder like everyone else believed though. The ceiling of the Ravenclaw common room was painted with stars, and they would mimic the actual position of the stars overhead that night. It was an amazing bit of charms work, and rumored to be cast by Lady Ravenclaw herself."

Viktor's eyes widened. "And you want to duplicate this?"

"No. The charms cast in the Ravenclaw common room were actually cast directly into the paint used for the ceiling, and I wouldn't even know where to begin looking into how to do that; however, there is a very similar spell that enchants the ceiling of Hogwarts' Great Hall to show what it is like outside at all times. I want to cast that spell on the ceiling of my room. If I can manage it, I could use it for both my Charms and Astronomy final projects."

"But why do you need your old professor's help for that?" Viktor asked. "Surely Kosarev could give you some advice about how to go about it."

"I'm sure he could, but unless Kosarev has been to Hogwarts, he won't understand what I'm trying to do as well as Flitwick. Besides, I'm hoping Flitwick will actually know what the spells on the ceiling of the Great Hall are. If he tells me, it will give me more time to learn how to cast them. I've never tried such an intricate charms project, and I think I'm going to need all the help I can get to make this one work."

Before Viktor could say anything about Harry's idea, there was loud bang, and both boys quickly walked back into the main hallway. Spotting a small stream of smoke coming from underneath the library door, Harry and Viktor listened for a moment, but couldn't hear any noise coming from where Kira and Calypso had been dueling.

"Think it's over?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Viktor sighed. "Let's go get them and see if we can fix what they did to each other. If not, we'll have to take them to the healer."

Entering the library, Harry shook his head at the damage. Two of the three tables were in pieces around the room, and several bookshelves appeared to have been knocked over by a few over-zealously banished chairs. Thankfully most of the books were unharmed, although a few looked like the covers had been hit by spells.

Harry spotted Kira lying face down near the main entrance; she was bound in ropes and petrified. As he passed her, Harry noticed that the tight ropes were actually moving slightly around her wrists, ankles, and neck, causing nasty burns and welts on Kira's exposed skin. After casually casting a finite, the ropes disappeared; however, much to Harry's surprise, the body bind curse remained. He was prepared to cast an identification charm to see what spell Calypso had used to petrify Kira when Viktor came up beside him.

"I'll deal with Kira, Harry, you find Calypso."

Nodding his head in agreement, Harry began searching for Calypso. He eventually found her unconscious behind the only undamaged table in the room. After checking her over for any serious spell damage and finding none, Harry sighed in relief. Calypso had a few nasty looking cuts and bruises, but they weren't caused by any dark spell, and they were easily healed by a quick _Episkey_. When all that was left was to rennervate her from the stunning spell, Harry asked Viktor how Kira was doing.

"I've healed the rope burns, but Calypso was able to hit Kira with a Con Totalus, and I think it would be best if we separated them before I remove it."

Harry nodded. "They would probably get right back into it if they saw each other when they woke up."

"I'll see you at dinner then Harry," Viktor said, levitating Kira out of the room.

Once Harry was certain that Viktor and Kira were gone, he pointed his wand at Calypso and silently cast Rennervate.

Calypso's eyes snapped open, and she bolted upright. She glared angrily around the library, obviously looking for Kira. "Where is she!"

"Viktor took her to his room before removing the Con Totalus," Harry replied as he began fixing the destroyed tables and righting the fallen bookshelves. "We thought it would be best to keep the two of you away from each other for the time being."

"What did Krum say to you?" Calypso asked. "I wanted to use Legilimency on him, but I didn't want to take my eyes off Megara. He didn't hex you for putting that cunt into a wall did he?"

"No, we just talked," Harry said reassuringly. "And I realized that I probably shouldn't have cursed Kira. It, undoubtedly, only made the situation worse."

Calypso smiled slightly. "Thank you for that by the way. The look on Megara's face as she flew into the wall was priceless. I'm actually surprised that she got up as quickly as she did. That was one powerful flinging hex."

"Yeah, well, Viktor managed to cast a cushioning charm on the bookshelf before she hit it. Otherwise, well, she probably would have gotten a lot more banged up. Thank you for saving me with that shield spell by the way."

"It's no problem Harry," Calypso said, her voice unconsciously softening. "I'd never let Megara curse you, especially not after you helped me."

"About that," Harry said meeting Calypso gaze. "What happened? Did you start to transform?"

Dropping her eyes to the ground, Calypso said, "I wasn't ready for it. I was just thinking about... well I was thinking about some things. I was also getting pissed off at Megara. She kept talking and wouldn't shut up. I don't know what happened, but one minute I was sitting down trying to transform, and the next second I felt something in my face...shift."

"Shift?"

"It was like the entire front part of my skull suddenly tried to push itself forward. I...well I wasn't exactly expecting that, and for a moment, I just wanted it to stop. I wasn't sure what was going on, and then my facial structure just went nuts. I guess Rosemburg was right about not practicing alone. Anything could have happened, and fucking Megara would have just sat there laughing as my skull caved in on me."

"I can't believe Kira didn't cast the Homorphus Charm on you," Harry said, a little anger creeping into his voice. "She had to have known what was happening, and I told her and Viktor what could happen if the charm wasn't used."

By the time he finished speaking, Harry's voice had gotten louder. Taking a second to calm himself, Harry said, "I think from now on we should only practice together. Viktor already has his form, and I'm not in the mood to help Kira."

Calypso smiled. "I think that's a great idea. Do you want to do some work now or–"

"No," Harry said, "No, I think you've gotten enough work in for both of us today. Let's just, I don't know, what do you want to do?"

Blinking, Calypso said, "Err, I don't know. Are you hungry?"

"I suppose I could go for a snack before dinner."

"A snack sounds like a good idea," Calypso agreed.

Offering her his hand, Harry helped Calypso up off the ground.

He was slightly surprised though when he tried to release her hand and she firmly held onto his. Looking questioningly at Calypso, Harry felt his throat dry up when he saw the same look she had given him earlier reappear. There was a pause when the two teens stared at each other for a moment before Calypso leaned forward and placed a very soft kiss on his lips.

Harry felt his eyes widen. His heart began thumping in his chest and every nerve in his body seemed to suddenly explode. Unsure what to do, he could only stare as Calypso pulled back, a blush spreading across her face.

Knowing that his own face was probably turning red, Harry ducked his head slightly, though he didn't try to remove his hand from Calypso's. Doing his best to call upon his Occlumency, Harry tried to relax and act normal as the two of them silently walked out of Grindelwald's room.

The walk down to the kitchens was done in silence, but Harry couldn't help but glance over at Calypso every now and then. While she too looked to be using Occlumency to keep her emotions in check, a soft smile never seemed to leave her face.

**oooOOOooo**

**One Last Step **   
**Grindelwald's Library, Nov 12th **

Sprawled out on the floor, Viktor muttered a curse – his body having been forcibly changed from a bat back to a human being.

"I don't understand, you can't change back?" Harry asked.

"I don't understand it either." Viktor said angrily. "It's as if I can only manage half the transformation."

Having no idea what might be wrong, Harry said, "We need to go see Professor Rosemburg, maybe he'll be able to explain what's going on."

Viktor nodded his head, but before they left the room, he said, "Don't tell Kira."

"Huh?" Harry asked in confusion. "Why?"

"Just, don't tell her, at least for now." Viktor paused before adding, "You know I've never been the best student –"

"Only because you never actually tried," Harry countered. "You'd have to be blind not to notice your improvement this year. Those private lessons have really helped you."

Viktor shrugged, but he didn't deny that the special treatment he was receiving was helping him to become a much more accomplished wizard. "Harry, please. Just keep it between us for right now. Kira is proud that I managed the transformation before everyone else. I don't want her to think that I screwed it up somehow."

Seeing how serious Viktor was, Harry said, "Alright, I'll keep it between us for now, but you know if Calyspo or Kira achieves the transformation and this happens to them..."

"Then we'll explain that it happened to me as well, but hopefully Professor Rosemburg can give us some answers to fix this."

Stepping out of the room, the two quickly made their way down to the second floor and approached professor Rosemburg's office. Unfortunately, two suits armor were blocking the entrance. "He must be working with another student right now. Do you want to wait?"

Thinking for a moment, Viktor said, "Yes, I want to find out what I'm doing wrong, and if we put it off, I don't know when I'll have the free time."

"Alright, I guess we wait. I hope Rosemburg doesn't take too long, you'd think they would have chairs out here or something." Looking around the drafty corridor, Harry saw various weapons, portraits, and paintings on the walls. "What do you think the odds are that we could take one of those axes down and transfigure it into a chair?"

Walking over to the hanging weapons, Viktor cast a few charms to try and remove them before shaking his head. "I think they used a permanent sticking charm. Do you know how to undo those?"

"No, but I know that it can be done. It took my uncle a year or two, but he was eventually able to get rid of this bitchy portrait of his mother in his family's old house."

"Well, unless you've been holding back a lot in Transfiguration and know how to conjure, I think we're stuck standing."

"I'm waiting until this Christmas to start conjuring," Harry said casually.

"You're serious?" Viktor asked, surprised. "Rosemburg told me we weren't going to start conjuring until a month into next year."

"Good, I'll get a head start." Harry grinned. "I'm sure my dad will help me if I ask him, and it'll give me something to do over the holiday since I can't work on the transformation at home. My parents would freak if they suspected I was trying to figure that out."

"Do you know where your..." Viktor trailed off as the two large suits of armor standing in front of Rosemburg's door moved to the side.

"I guess his meeting's over," Harry commented as the door opened. His eyes widened when he saw Calypso walk out of the Transfiguration professor's office.

Calypso seemed just as surprised to see him, and said, "Harry, what are you doing here?"

"Harry and I had a question about conjuring for Professor Rosemburg," Viktor lied quickly.

"What are you doing here, Calypso?" Harry asked.

"Conjuring, _really_?" Calypso asked Viktor with barely veiled sarcasm. Turning to Harry, she said, "I just had a question about my latest inanimate to animate assignment... I'm running late for a meeting with my father, but I'll see you later, right? Maybe then you can tell me what you're up to?"

Laughing, Harry said, "Sounds good. I'll meet you in Grindelwald's room later tonight."

Calypso smiled at Harry before quickly setting off down the corridor towards her father's office.

"Harry," Viktor practically hissed, "you said you wouldn't tell Calypso."

"You said not to tell Kira," Harry countered, "I didn't think you meant Calypso as well. And if you didn't want her to know, what were you thinking lying to her like that? You know she's a Legilimens. You might as well have just screamed 'I'm keeping a secret.'"

"She caught me off guard," Viktor admitted distastefully, "but that's besides the point. If I didn't want _my girlfriend_ to know, why would I ever want you to tell Calypso?"

"Well, I'm sorry Viktor," Harry said, slightly annoyed. "Next time you tell me to keep a secret from Kira, I'll assume that you mean from Calypso as well. Don't worry, I'll think of something to tell Calypso about why we're here." Brushing past his friend, Harry pushed open Professor Rosemburg's door, and stepped into his office, an annoyed Viktor trailing behind him.

Looking up from his desk, Rosemburg smiled when he saw his star student enter his office. "Mr. Potter, what can I do for you today?" The cheerful greeting seemed to dim somewhat when he saw Krum followed Harry into the room.

"Sir, Viktor's discovered a problem with his Animgaus transformation," Harry explained, sitting down in an open chair. "He was able to transform for the first time a few weeks ago–"

"Is that true, Mr. Krum?" Rosemburg interrupted. "You were able to transform?"

"Yes sir," Viktor said, an almost mocking smile appearing on his face.

Rosemburg looked distastefully at Viktor before snapping, "Then why have you waited so long to inform me? If you intend to complete the transformation, you need to know the final step in the process, or did you _intend_ to give up living as a wizard and to spend the rest of your life in your animagus form?"

Viktor and Harry shared a surprised look with each other. Eventually it was Harry who said, "Sir, we thought that once you were able to will yourself to transform that's all that you had to do."

Rosemburg looked between his two students for a moment, shaking his head in displeasure. "It is not, Mr. Potter. Now, Mr. Krum, what is your form?

"A bat, sir."

"Very well. Now, while the theory of turning yourself from a human into an animal is the same as turning yourself from an animal back into a human, there is one noticeable difference. Can you tell me what that might be?"

There was a pause before Harry said, "What you're starting the transformation as?"

"No, Mr. Potter, what you start as has little to do with the process. When you began trying to will yourself into your form, what did I tell you to be especially careful of?"

"Panicking. Keeping our emotions in check." Harry replied, remembering all too well what happened to Calypso.

"Exactly. So, Mr. Krum. How well did you adjust to becoming a bat? Were you calm? Patient? Or were you like the vast majority of other Animagi who couldn't comprehend the vast physiological changes your body had just undergone?"

"I, I thought I handled it fairly well," Viktor said defiantly.

"Really?" Rosmeburg said sarcastically. "You believe that your human mind – a mind that has spent seventeen years giving you the same sense of self – flawlessly adjusted to suddenly having wings, different eyesight, and a massive readjustment in mass? I'll ask you again, how did you handle it?"

"I-I flew around the room until someone transformed me back."

Rosemburg scoffed. "Your body reacted to a primal stimulus in the bat's subconscious – a subconscious that merged with your own when you were in that form. That is why you probably flew aimlessly around the room until someone turned you back. Now, knowing what kind of mental focus it takes to transform from a human to an animal, do you really think you were in any mental condition to turn yourself back into a human?"

"No, sir," Viktor said admitted.

"Sir, how can he overcome that to turn back?" Harry asked.

"There are two schools of thought on that, Mr. Potter." Rosemburg explained patiently. "Mr. Krum, the first option is to will only a small part of your anatomy into a bat. Now that you know what your form is, you can try to change a little bit of yourself at a time. By remaining mostly human, you'll slowly expose yourself to the change gradually. That way when you change your entire form, it's not so jarring to your mind. Unfortunately, this method tends to take an even greater amount of mental focus than the initial transformation as you're not trying to change your entire being, only a small part of yourself. However, the very will power it takes to undergo this process has proven to help improve the speed of your transformation from human to animal and vice-versa."

"Sir, it seems like that might take a long time," Viktor said. "Is the other method quicker?"

"The other method is essentially to continue as you currently are. You transform the entire way, get stuck in your form, and have someone change you back. Eventually, you will acclimate to the change enough to attempt to turn back to normal. However, there is a strong possibility that you won't be truly ready when you try to turn back. So, to answer your question, I suppose that this method might be quicker, but it's not necessarily safer. In all likelihood, if you choose this method, you will rush the return transformation and end up hurting yourself. I understand that you both witnessed Ms. Rosier's failed transformation attempt?"

Harry and Viktor nodded.

"Well, from what she explained to me, she was very fortunate. Imagine turning from a bat into a human, but returning with the lungs of a bat and quickly suffocating." Seeing both his students look suitably horrified, Rosemburg said, "A failed return transformation can be far more dangerous if you use the second method as you won't know exactly when you've acclimated enough to return successfully. You're likely to screw up several times, in very gruesome ways. That's why I suggest the first method, but the choice is yours, Mr. Krum. You may do as you wish."

"I- thank you, sir." Viktor said, slightly pale. "I'll give both options a good deal of consideration."

"Yes, you do that." Rosemburg said indifferently. "Now, was there anything else?"

"No, sir." Harry said. "Thank you for explaining everything."

**ooo0000ooo**

**Dementors, Patroni, and Harry's Awkward Moment**

**Main Hall (Nov. 22nd) ...**

_Son, _

_I really wish I was writing with some good news but, unfortunately, I can't _

_Your mother and I were at Nathan's first quidditch match of the year when a horde or Dementors flew over the pitch. The Dementors attacked your brother while he was several hundred feet in the air searching for the snitch. With that many Dementors around him, Nathan was rendered unconscious and fell from his broom. Fortunately, Albus was able to slow Nathan's fall before he hit the ground while the professors, your mother, and I were able to drive off the Dementors around the stadium. _

_Nathan is going to be alright. He suffered a few bruised ribs from the fall, but it wasn't anything that Madam Pomphrey couldn't quickly heal. _

_After the attack, Albus and I spoke to the Minister about removing the Dementors; however, Fudge is being remarkably stubborn and is refusing to send them back to Azkaban. _

_The one piece of good news that has come from this ordeal is that your brother has begun to realize the danger he is in this year. Nathan has asked Remus to give him some special lessons to practice the Patronus charm, as well as several of the spells on the list your gave him earlier this year. While I hope Nathan never has to use those spells to defend himself, I find it reassuring that he is going to be learning them. _

_Please write back soon Harry, your mother and I could use some good news. _

_All my love, _   
_Dad _

With an angry scowl on his face, Viktor gave Harry back his letter. "What is wrong with you Englishmen? Putting Dementors anywhere near a quidditch match is madness!"

Unable to hide his anger, Harry spat, "Our minister is clearly an idiot. If Nathan had been kissed..."

"Do you think your brother can manage to learn the Patronus Charm?" Calypso asked in the ensuing silence. "That's some pretty advanced magic."

"Yeah, because that's what's important about the letter, Calypso," Harry said peevishly. "My brother could have died!"

"But he didn't." Reaching out, Calypso took one of Harry's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "He's okay."

Relaxing somewhat, Harry said, "Yeah. Yeah, I know. I'm just worried about him."

"At least your father thinks that your brother will start preparing to defend himself now." Viktor couldn't help but notice the way Harry and Calypso seemed to have grown even closer as of late, and he wasn't sure it was a good thing. "So maybe some good has come of this."

A dark look crossed Harry's face. "It shouldn't have taken a bunch of Dementors to get my brother to practice some advanced magic."

"But at least he's started," Viktor said reassuringly. "What do you know about the Patronus Charm? You should try to learn the spell and help him over the break."

"Honestly? Nothing. I've never even heard of it," Harry admitted. "Obviously it defends against Dementors somehow, but I don't know in what way. Can you even kill Dementors?"

"I seriously doubt it, Harry. If you could, I imagine they would have been exterminated a long time ago. It's not like they actually serve a useful purpose. Father knows a bit about Dementors, and a book I read over the summer mentioned the Patronus charm," Calypso said.

"And," prompted Harry.

"It didn't say much, just that the Patronus was a spell that required a high level of emotional intent. The book just used it as an example, and didn't explain the spell itself. If you want to know more about it, go ask my father or, better yet, professor Kosarev."

"Kosarev has come down with a mild case of Dragon Pox," Viktor interjected. "The Highmaster has sent him home till he recovers."

"When did this happen?" Harry asked. "We had class with Kosarev a few days ago, and he looked fine."

"The symptoms apparently began showing during one of his first year classes yesterday," Viktor said. "One of my old teammates was in the hospital wing, and he overheard the Highmaster and Lady Shluga talking about it."

"Alright, I guess that means I get to go ask your father," Harry said, standing up. "Do you know if he's in a good mood?"

"Last I checked, he was planning on spending the entire morning grading some papers." Calypso said.

"Papers?" Viktor asked. "I don't think I've ever been assigned an essay from your father."

"That's because father feels that if you can't cast the spell, writing several feet about the magic is a waste of time," Calypso explained.

"So why is he grading papers now?"

"Because he lost his temper when none of his second years could successfully banish a Boggart. He told them all to write five feet of parchment on combating Boggarts or he would lock them in a closet with one till they figured it out."

"Five feet on Boggarts!" Viktor said incredulously. "Is there even that much information on Boggarts in the entire library."

"Apparently."

"So you want me to interrupt your father while he's grading papers and is already in a bad mood," Harry clarified. "Maybe I'll just wait till tomorrow."

"No, no, no. By now he will have read a dozen essays that make the same point, so he's probably looking for anything to distract him."

"Alright, I'll ask him," Harry said, "but if I get hexed, I'm going to be taking it out on you, Calypso."

Calypso laughed. "I'm sure you'll be fine Harry."

**ooo0000ooo**

**An Equivocal Lesson **   
**Romulus Rosier's Office... **

"Enter."

Harry opened the door to his professor's office and nervously looked at the scowling figure of Professor Rosier sitting behind his desk with an inordinate amount of parchment stacked next to him.

"Mr. Potter, what can I do for you?"

Perhaps it was Harry's imagination, but he thought Professor Rosier seemed uncharacteristically inviting. Hoping that Calypso was right, and her father was seeking a distraction, Harry said, "I was hoping to ask you a question about a spell, sir."

Professor Rosier eyed Harry curiously for a moment before looking distastefully at the pile of essays he had yet to grade. "Why don't you take a seat, Mr. Potter. Does this have to do with your final project? My daughter tells me you're already starting to develop ideas for both your Transfiguration and Charms projects."

Feeling slightly unnerved that Calypso was apparently still providing her father updates about him, Harry took a seat across from his professor. "Um, honestly, I don't know, sir. It might."

"I see. What is the spell you wish to discus?" Professor Rosier asked.

"The Patronus charm."

"Ah, the Patronus charm," Professor Rosier muttered. "You certainly have an eye for interesting, if obscure, magic, Mr. Potter."

"I suppose, sir."

"What do you know of this spell?"

"Very little," admitted Harry.

"How did you come to learn of it then?"

"Dementors are placed around the Hogwarts grounds. I heard that the Patronus charm can stop them, is that true?"

Professor Rosier nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, the Patronus charm certainly does that, though it is very advanced magic. When successfully cast, a corporeal Patronus will act as a shield for the wizard against a Dementor or Lethifold. Like most powerful magic, the spell requires not only an incantation and wand movement, but also a great deal of intent on the part of the caster in order for it to work properly. The emotion that fuels a Patronus is happiness. Without a suitably happy or joyous memory, the spell will not function to its full effect."

"Happiness? I don't think I've ever heard of a spell that required that emotion before."

"Happiness, joy, love. Those are all powerful emotions, Mr. Potter, although we do not focus on them much in this class. After all, the spells that require such emotions rarely fall under the category of 'Dark Arts.' Now, is there anything else you wish to know about the spell?"

"Would that make a good final project?" Harry asked curiously.

Professor Rosier 'tutted' in a disproving manner. "I teach the Dark Arts, Mr. Potter, and, as I said, the Patronus, while impressive, would fall more under the category of Charms. However, I'm sure Professor Kosarev would be impressed if you managed it. "

"But Dementors are dark creatures," Harry commented. "Dark creatures are a part of the Dark Arts curriculum."

"I am aware of what is covered in my class, Mr. Potter." Professor Rosier said sarcastically.

"So you wouldn't pass me for casting the Patronus Charm, even though you just said it was powerful magic?"

"I did not say I wouldn't pass you," Professor Rosier said irritably. "If you were able to successfully cast the Patronus for your final project, I would be disappointed in your project, but I would still pass you."

"Why would you be disappointed, sir?"

"If you cannot understand why, clearly I have reason to be." Professor Rosier casually summoned a book from behind him and handed it to Harry. "Chapter seven describes how to properly go about casting the Patronus Charm."

Harry quickly accepted the book. "Thank you, sir. I promise I'll take good care of it."

"I'm sure that you will."

Standing up to leave, Harry was surprised when Professor Rosier quickly said, "Sit back down, Mr. Potter, there is another matter we need to speak about. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Sir?"

"I've noticed that you and Calypso seem to be growing closer." Professor Rosier's voice didn't reveal anything, but Harry had a feeling that his professor wasn't pleased. "You are aware that Calypso will have a marriage contract made for her at some point, correct?

Sitting across from Professor Rosier, Harry felt trapped in his chair by his professor's powerful gaze. Instinctively, Harry thought back to all the times he'd seem Calypso laugh or smile, the way his heart sped up when she held his hand, the kiss they shared. As those thoughts seemed to cross his mind, a horrible sense of realization caused Harry to immediately clear his mind, stopping the sudden onslaught of emotions he was feeling.

Immediately, his thoughts of Calypso ceased, and he looked at his professor with a neutral expression. "I am aware of that, sir. She mentioned it to me at the start of this year. However, Calypso and I are not dating."

Harry felt his professor's Legilimency again reach out and touch his mind, trying to coerce a thought or emotion from him. After a few seconds, the uneasy feeling of Legilimency began to diminish, but not completely disappear.

"I see," Professor Rosier eventually said.

Wanting to escape his professor's presence, Harry did his best to continuously mask his emotions. "If you'll excuse me, sir. I have to meet Viktor in the library." Still feeling the sense of Legilimency from Professor Rosier, Harry couldn't help but add, "Besides, I'd hate to keep you from your grading, sir."

Inside the office, Romulus Rosier waited until Harry Potter had left his office before he allowed a smile to slowly make its way across his face. "Such an interesting young man."

**ooo0000ooo**

**A Very Happy Birthday **   
**Calypso's Room (Dec 19th)...**

"Aww, Krum, you shouldn't have," Calypso said, accepting the small present from Viktor. Looking at the box, she was almost certain that it was probably something Quidditch related.

Her relationship with Viktor Krum was... contentious. The only thing that the two really had in common was Harry, and, as much as Calypso hated to admit it, the large Bulgarian had started to grow on her this year. Being the first to find his animagus form had improved her opinion of his magical ability, and, with all the private tutoring the professors were ordered to give him, Viktor was slowly becoming one of the more respected 6th year students. Still, Krum could frustrate her to no end, and it was a testament to her revised opinion of his skill that she hadn't tried to hex him at some point.

"I told him not to bother," Kira said walking into the room and looking distastefully at the small cake on the table. "I mean, pity should only go so far, and we wouldn't want you to actually think Viktor is your friend, Rosier."

"Megara, looking forward to the holidays? All your talentless family members standing around the yule tree, trying in vain to correctly cast a fairy lights charm. It must be quite the pathetic sight," Calypso casually responded.

"I hope you have a good holiday, Rosier," Viktor said formally.

"The same to you, Krum. I'd invite you to stay for the party, but I'd hate for that shrew on your arm to think she is allowed to remain in my room."

"Oh, yes, some party." Kira snorted. "You and Potter sitting in your room. Where is Potter by the way? Did he get bored of you already?"

"None of your business, Megara. Now get out before I decide to start my holiday early by cursing you."

"Rosier, I have to be going. Please tell Harry I wish him a happy holidays," Viktor said, guiding Kira from the room.

Nodding her head in acknowledgment, Calypso closed her door and lazily relaxed on her couch. She glanced to the side and smiled at the small cake Harry had gotten to celebrate her birthday. He had been acting more relaxed around her lately, and she took that as a very good sign. Her father told her that he briefly talked to Harry about 'their relationship', though he refused to say what was said. The fact that Harry wasn't acting jumpy or considerably freaked out put Calypso slightly at ease. In fact, had her father not told her that he and Harry had talked, Calypso wouldn't have thought anything had happened at all. While she had noticed Harry utilizing Occlumency more frequently than before, she hadn't thought much about it.

Hearing her door open, Calypso looked up to see Harry walking into her room, a smile on his face.

"You know, I swear the founder of this school must have been a genius. Not putting any boys' restrooms on the girls' side of the corridor is a better deterrent than the charmed staircases they use at Hogwarts to keep boys and girls separate.

Calypso sat up and made room for him on the couch. She hid a smile when he sat next to her and left the chair across from the couch unoccupied.

"So have you thought of a birthday wish yet?"

"I still don't understand this," Calypso admitted. "You say it's a muggle thing?"

"Yep. It's a tradition my mum's family had. Every year on my birthday my parents would put candles on the cake and tell me to make a wish before blowing them out."

"But what about the anti-extinguishing charm?"

"My mother is a charms mistress, Calypso. It's not like she doesn't know how to remove a simple charm like that, and these candles aren't enchanted," Harry explained patiently. "Now, stop stalling and make a wish."

Knowing exactly what she wanted, Calypso took a deep breath and blew out the candles.

"Happy birthday," Harry said, giving Calypso a hug.

Calypso leaned into the embrace and wrapped her arms around Harry's back. "Thank you," She whispered softly in his ear.

Harry felt his face and neck begin to heat up, and he slowly pulled out of the hug. "You're welcome," he said awkwardly. "Do you, err, want to open your gift now?"

"I suppose. You have to Portkey home soon, don't you?"

"Not for another hour or so."

"Well, it'll probably take you at least fifteen minutes to get outside the school's wards, so I might as well open the gift now. Oh, and Krum stopped by to drop off a gift as well. He wishes you a Merry Christmas by the way."

"I know, I ran into them in the hallway. Open Viktor's gift first. Let's see what he got you."

"Alright." Calypso quickly unwrapped the small wrapped parcel and opened a brown box. Inside was a small gold pocket watch. "That's nice of him, I suppose."

"Yeah, I guess," Harry said, inspecting the watch.

Putting the watch to the side, Calypso turned to Harry. "So can I see my gift now?"

"Well, you know, I was thinking. Maybe I should wait to give you your gift," Harry said putting the present to the side. "I mean, it's really close to Christmas, I could just send it along with your Christmas gift."

Calypso looked at Harry like he had momentarily lost his mind. "Today is my birthday, and you have my gift right there. Why would you go home and send me my gift when you have it here?"

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Harry handed over his gift.

Calypso quickly tore into the wrapping to find a small leather bound book, and, judging by how some of the pages were not correctly lined up with one another, it was clearly held together by magic.

"I know you've wanted to know how to make enchantment receptacles for a while now, and those are my notes from when I first learned how to make them," Harry explained. "I've also added the information that Professor Kosarev and my mum gave me to help extend how long they last."

Calypso opened the book and saw that it was full of Harry's typically terrible quillmanship. "Harry, this is great."

"Err, I know it might not have cost as much as Viktor's gift-"

"Harry, this is way better than Viktor's gift," Calypso said seriously. "Like you said, I've wanted to learn how to make receptacles for a long time now. I know you don't have the time to teach me with everything else we're doing, and I really don't want to set my room on fire by miscasting a spell. This should help me figure it out over the break. Thank you." Calypso leaned forward and gave Harry a soft kiss on his cheek. She placed her hand on his other cheek and let her lips linger for a moment before pulling away.

"You're welcome," Harry said, doing his best to act normally after the kiss.

"Did you think I would like Viktor's gift more?" Calypso asked, very amused.

"Well, it definitely cost more. All I did was ask my mum to send my old notes from home."

Calypso reached out and held Harry's hands in her's before looking deeply into his green eyes. "You also cast several copying charms, added information given to you by your mother and Professor Kosarev, and put it all together. That takes way more effort than buying a stupid watch, and it means a lot to me."

When Calypso first looked into his eyes, Harry was prepared to immediately clear his mind. Ever since his meeting with Calypso's father, he'd been trying to act as normal as possible while being constantly prepared to use Occlumency. It was incredibly difficult to remain vigilant, especially when no Legilimency attempts ever seemed to come. Even now, as he anticipated a Legilimency probe from Calypso, it never happened.

As she spoke, Harry couldn't help but stare deeply into Calypso's pale gray eyes. There was a brief moment where Harry felt himself become momentarily disoriented. A half-second later an overwhelming amount of desire seemed to hit him like a wave. He could practically sense a great deal of uncertainty as he continued to look at Calypso, and the longer he stared into her eyes, the more certain he grew that the uncertainty was somehow connected to the initial desire.

As quickly as these feelings and emotions came, they vanished. The sudden emptiness felt wrong, and Harry found himself wanting to reach out and sense those feelings again.

He was about to ask Calypso what was wrong when he really looked at her. Calypso seemed to be struggling somehow. Her face seemed closed off, her eyes cold and judging. There was just something strange happening, she was upset, but he didn't know why.

Harry was about to ask what was wrong when Calyspo's eyes seemed to widen, as if suddenly realizing something. Immediately, there was a flood of thoughts and emotions that seemed to assault his senses. He remembered the two of them sharing their first kiss. How her heartbeat quickened as they grew closer together. Leaning forward slightly, Harry had the strongest desire to reach out and...

Letting out a gasp, Harry felt the world momentarily realign although nothing seemed to actually change. There was a sudden rush of blood to his head, quickly followed by brief dizziness.

"Wow," he said softly.

"That was your first real burst of Legilimency, wasn't it?" Calypso asked hesitantly.

"I-what? Legilimency?" Harry asked, slightly confused. "That's what Legilimency feels like?"

"A feeling that everything is different, but somehow the same? A sense of displacement, accompanied by a rush of foreign emotions and thoughts. A yearning to learn more, to seek out those feelings?"

Still looking into Calypso's eyes, Harry could only nod.

"Yes, that's Legilimency," Calypso explained. "The displacement becomes less and less noticeable the more you do it. My father says he doesn't even feel it anymore."

"And, the feelings?" Harry asked brushing some hair away from Calypso's face. "The overwhelming desire to..."

Calypso looked away. Not even bothering to try using Occlumency again. "My immediate surface emotions."

Harry slowly turned Calypso's face back towards him. "You felt all of that?"

"Yes," She said softly.

Leaning forward, Harry placed a feather light kiss against Calypso's lips. It was nothing like the first kiss they shared. Where the first kiss was short and awkward, this kiss felt right. Harry instinctively wrapped his free hand behind Calypso's back and held her against him. He felt Calypso stiffen for a moment before she relaxed against him. Harry let his lips linger against Calypso's for a few more seconds before pulling back slowly.

"Wow," He said smiling.

Calypso returned his smile. "Wow is right."

"Calypso about the contract...," he said uncertainly.

Placing a finger against Harry's lips, Calypso stopped him from talking. "Don't," she said. "That was the most wonderful kiss I've ever had. Don't think about the contract. Not now."

Nodding, Harry leaned back to relax on the couch, Calypso leaning against him slightly.

"This has been a wonderful birthday, Harry," Calypso said before initiating another brief kiss. "Thank you."

There was a prolonged silence where the two teens just leaned against one another on the couch. It wasn't awkward or tense, rather it was the kind of comfortable silence that only the closest of people could enjoy. Finally, it was Harry who spoke. "Are we still friends Calypso?"

"Of course," she replied immediately.

Calypso saw a look of relief cross Harry's face before it was replaced by confusion. "But...are we, um, dating?"

"I don't know, Harry. Does it really matter if we are dating or not?" She asked. "I will say that I enjoyed kissing you, and I don't think I'm going to stop anytime soon."

Harry smiled at the thought of more kisses. He certainly enjoyed kissing Calypso, and he was glad that she wasn't going to stop kissing him. Would it really matter if they were just very close friends or girlfriend/boyfriend? He knew that Calypso ultimately wanted to marry him, and she knew that he was freaked out by the idea of a marriage contract. Would their relationship be any different if they were officially 'dating' or just friends that kiss? Probably not.

"I guess it wouldn't matter," Harry said, wrapping one arm around Calypso's waist and bringing her closer to him.

A look of triumph appeared on Calypso's face as she leaned into the embrace. As Harry held her, Calypso decided to someday examine Muggle society. How the Muggles discovered that wishing for something on your birthday by blowing out a series of candles caused the wish to come true she didn't know, but she would definitely find out.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up. This chapter begins the chapters posted solely on DLP, so the formatting is going to be different.

The Happiest Holiday  
Harry's Room, Durmstrang, (Jan. 12th)...

With a final flick of his wand, Harry bit his lip and hoped that he'd done everything correctly. Casting a water repelling charm on his robes, he reached up and grasped an ornate handle and pulled to the left. There was a moment of silence before the nozzle at the top of the shower began to sputter and then spit out water. With a few turns of the handle, Harry was pleased to note that the temperature charms were functioning properly, and the water was vanishing down the drain.

Turning off the shower, Harry walked out of his bathroom, and hid the door behind a notice-me-not charm. As much as he hated sharing a bathroom with the other students at Durmstrang, he wasn't going to suddenly become Viktor and Calypso's personal maintenance wizard, and there was no way his friends wouldn't pester him into installing a bathroom into their rooms.

With the Notice-Me-Not charm in place, Harry walked over and opened his door.

Only to come face to face with a stressed out Viktor Krum, who was apparently a second away from knocking.

“Viktor,” Harry said with a pleasant smile on his face. “I was about to come see-”

Taking a large step forward, Viktor dragged Harry back into the room, quickly closed the door, and cast a silencing charm. “Harry! What is going on? I leave you and Rosier alone for one hour before Christmas, and I come back after the holiday and hear a rumor that you're betrothed?”

Staring at his friend in complete disbelief, Harry could only open and close his mouth for several seconds. Eventually, he managed to get out a shocked, “What!”

Viktor seemed to take the shock and confusion on his friend's face as a positive sign, and he dropped into a chair looking relieved. “Good. I was hoping it was just a bunch of idiots talking.”

“Who's talking?” Harry demanded.

“That fifth year Müller. Apparently, Professor Rosier turned down his family for a potential marriage contract. Müller has been pissed off since he got back to school a few days ago.”

“I didn't even know Müller liked Calypso,” Harry muttered, an angry expression crossing his face.

Viktor looked at his friend with some confusion. “Of course Müller doesn't like Calypso, Harry. He's not angry because he was turned down. He's angry that Professor Rosier just told his family no and basically told them they shouldn't have bothered inquiring. The Müllers are one of Germany's most prestigious and oldest families, and since he's gotten back Müller has been throwing out these ridiculous claims that Calypso had to be betrothed for his family to be turned down like that, and, well, you were the obvious choice. It's not like she's ever seen with anyone else.”

“Calypso and I,” Harry hesitated, “well, I guess we're dating.”

Viktor could only stare at his friend in shock. “Please, please tell me you didn't agree to anything with Mr. Rosier.”

“Don't worry, I didn't sign a marriage contract,” Harry said uneasily, knowing that Calypso did ultimately want that.

Wanting to demand more information, but sensing that Harry was in no mood to discuss his burgeoning relationship with Calypso, Viktor let the situation drop for the moment. “So, how was your holiday?”

Harry noticeably relaxed at the change of subject. “My holiday was great,” he said happily. “The best I've had since starting school.”

“Really?” Viktor asked, pleasantly surprised. “Why?”

“Well for starters, Nathan apologized for not taking Peter seriously.”

“That's good.” Viktor nodded in satisfaction. “I believe I told you that you gave your brother too little credit, and that he would apologize.”

“Yes, Viktor, you were right. Let's see, what else happened?” Harry asked himself. “Oh, I decided what I would be doing for my Transfiguration project.”

Viktor looked confused. “I thought you were trying for the Animagus transformation?”

“I haven't even found my form yet Viktor. I tried to subtly ask my uncle a few questions about the transformation over the break, but he wouldn't tell me much. What he did tell me though...” Harry looked uncomfortable. “I knew the transformation was dangerous, but Sirius told me about how some wizards that rushed the transformation damaged their magic or permanently disfigured themselves. I think he knew I was looking into trying it, and he wanted to put me off attempting it until I was older.”

“So you're just going to stop trying?” Viktor asked incredulously. “That's very unlike you.”

“I'm not going to stop, Viktor. I still want to become an Animagus, but I doubt I'll be able to finish it in time to use it as my project.”

“Ah,” said Viktor in understanding, “so you'll keep practicing, but you will be doing another final project for Rosemburg.

Harry nodded. “Pretty much.”

“So what are you going to do for your final project then?”

“Conjuring,” Harry replied. “I spent a while over the break trying to learn the Inanimatus Conjurus spell. If I can show enough proficiency with conjuring, I should easily be able to get the Master award again this year.”

Viktor whistled in appreciation. “Have you had any success with conjuring?”

“No,” Harry said bitterly, “but I've got until the end of the term.”

“Well, I wish you luck. I'd offer to help, but I doubt I would have the first idea where to start,” Viktor admitted. “I'm going to be doing some large scale inanimate to animate transfiguration. Turning a desk into a goat and that sort of thing. Hopefully it will be enough to pass me.”

“It should be,” Harry reassured his friend, “that's technically taught at the start of sixth year, so it should be advanced enough. How was your break though? Did you do anything exciting besides Quidditch? Oh, congratulations by the way, I read that you absolutely crushed Uganda to get to the round of 16. ”

“I wouldn't say we crushed them,” tempered Viktor. “They exposed a very large flaw in our squad. Had I not caught the Snitch as soon as I did, the match could have been much closer.”

“But the Daily Prophet made it sound like you steamrolled past them without any difficulty.”

“The Ugandan Chasers outclassed ours. They possessed the Quaffle for almost sixty-two percent of the match. Our Keeper played unbelievably though, and he bought me enough time to find and catch the Snitch.”

“So your Chasers are the weak point on the team?” asked Harry. “That shouldn't be that much of a problem though, right? Who do you play next?”

“The winner of the Spain/Peru match. Thankfully, both of those teams rely on their Seekers and beaters, so our Chasers should be able to hold their own against either of them. Oh, and I am sorry about England losing to the Czechs. I had wanted to play them in the quarterfinals.”

“Yeah, Nathan and my dad were depressed for a week after we lost. I was upset that we didn't win, but I knew enough from listening to you that our team couldn't compete with the elites this year. The Aussies, the Swedes, the Irish, or your squad would have destroyed us. Better to go out in a close competitive game against the Czechs than to be embarrassed by a top tier squad in my opinion.”

“How are you certain that Bulgaria would have embarrassed England?” asked Viktor curiously. “Quidditch can be very unorthodox at times.”

Harry laughed. “Please Viktor, like you wouldn't play the best game of your life to hold it over my head that you crushed England.”

“True,” Viktor grinned as someone knocked at Harry's door.

Harry lazily waved his wand, unlocking and opening the door.

Calypso walked into the room, an annoyed expression on her face. “Krum,” she said, not sounding pleased to see him.

“I believe that is my cue to leave.” Viktor stood up. “I'll see you in class, Harry.”

“Bye, Viktor.”

Once Viktor had left, there was a prolonged silence between Harry and Calypso.

“So...,” Harry said uncertainly, “how was your holiday?”

Calypso rolled her eyes as she sat down in an open chair. “This doesn't have to be awkward, Harry. We kissed, and now that shithead Müller is starting rumors. And my holiday was decent, but not spectacular. How was yours?”

Still somewhat uncomfortable, Harry said, “It was... pretty great actually.”

“Did you do anything special?” Calypso asked curiously. “Practice any new magic?”

“Actually, I did,” he said. “I started learning conjuration and my mother explained the charms that allow the Great Hall to show the sky outside. Oh, and I started practicing the Patronus Charm a lot.”

Calypso appeared slightly disappointed. “You're still going to do the Patronus Charm for your Dark Arts final project? Didn't my father tell you that you wouldn't receive the top mark if you did that?”

“Well, yeah, but he also said that he would pass me.” Harry shrugged unconcerned. “Regardless of whatever rumor is currently circulating, I'm not looking to become a Dark Lord.”

Calypso frowned. “It's not about becoming a Dark Lord. It's about living up to your full potential. Why are you so hesitant to do that?”

“I'm not,” Harry said defensively, “I just don't want to learn a lot of really dark magic.”

“We've been over this a thousand times, Harry.” Calypso sighed. “Why is it that every time you come back from England you develop a phobia for using the Dark Arts? Does your family make you drink befuddlement droughts until you agree that the dark arts are all for twisted sadists or something? You are good, no, great, at magic. You shouldn't feel handicapped to not study a branch of magic just because your family might disapprove a little.”

“I really don't want to argue about this Calypso, can we just talk about something else?” Harry asked impatiently.

Calypso glared at him. “Fine, but just so you know, you're being very stupid... again. Now, what shape did your patronus take?”

Harry looked uncomfortable. “I haven't managed a corporeal patronus yet. Those are really difficult. All I've been able to generate is some mist. I'm even behind Nathan of all people.”

Calypso grinned. “Jealousy is very unbecoming Harry.”

Harry glared at Calypso before immediately clearing his mind of emotion.

“Besides,” Calypso said, “your brother has been practicing the spell at Hogwarts for most the year. It's only natural that he would be further ahead of you.”

“He's only had a few private lessons with my uncle at Hogwarts. It's not like he even practices it every day like I did during the last week of the semester. We've probably put in the same amount of time into learning the spell, but Nathan's partonus is just better for some reason. And don't use Legilimency on me.”

“You should be thanking me for catching you off guard. Do you think my father won't test your Occlumency?” Calypso asked sounding completely unrepentant. “As far as your brother, I think it's stupid for you to be jealous. You're a far more accomplished wizard than he is right now, and it's not like either of you have mastered the spell yet. If you're upset that he seems to be doing better than you, work harder. Like I said Harry, jealousy doesn't suit you.”

Harry did his best to ignore his anger and keep his mind clear. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Don't pout Harry,” Calypso teased, “it makes you look ridiculous.”

“Speaking of ridiculous, what's the deal with all the rumors about us?”

“Müller,” Calypso spat the boy's name, “will be learning very quickly to never start rumors about us. That is unless he wants to spend the rest of the term blind, deaf, and without a tongue.”

“Why didn't your father just tell the Müller's–”

“What?” Calypso asked sarcastically. “Tell one of the most powerful families in Germany that he wasn't going to be using a marriage contract after he's been floating the idea to certain mutual friends for years. Maybe my father wants to see how we'll handle Müller's accusations about us. Maybe he wanted to put old man Müller in his place. Or maybe he wanted to use this in a ploy against some family he hates in Australia.”

“So you've got no idea?” Harry asked, a feeling at the back of his mind telling him otherwise.

Calypso now looked slightly uncomfortable. “Well, I did mention to father that you had begun courting me.”

Feeling himself pale, Harry choked out, “What?”

“Well, it's not like he would accept me telling him that we snog, but that you currently have no desire to marry me.” Calypso said angrily. “Father would have likely told me to stop whoring myself out to you before saying I need to find a different husband!”

Harry looked appalled. “But...that's not at all! You're not whoring yourself! We're just figuring out if we should... date.”

“I know, Harry, but please just go with it for now. If my father asks... you're courting me.”

Swallowing nervously, Harry asked, “And just what does that entail?”

“Well, a few centuries ago, you would be responsible for impressing me with magic, poetry, and music until I decided you were worthy enough, and I asked my father to present you with a marriage contract.” Calypso laughed slightly at the thought of Harry playing a flute and trying to woo her. “Since my father already knows I want you to receive a contract, well, he probably assumes that we're basically dating, but calling it courting allows him to save face in case it gets back to our more traditional family friends.”

Looking nervously at Calypso, Harry asked, “I don't have to worry about my family finding out about this rumor, right?”

“I doubt that our families travel in the same social circles.” Calypso frowned slightly. “I can probably count the number of people in Western Europe that know father is alive on one hand. Even my family's business partners in that part of the world think father is dead. They assume the Mr. Rosier that signs everything is some kind of Goblin based trustee until I become of age. So, no, you shouldn't have anything to worry about.”

“Okay,” Harry said awkwardly, “Um, well, I guess we should head downstairs. The feast is going to start soon.”

“We'll go in a bit,” Calypso said patiently, “there is something I want to do first.”

“Oh? What?”

Taking two steps forward, Calypso quickly closed the gap between the two of them, stood up on her toes, and pushed her lips against Harry's.

While initially surprised, Harry quickly relaxed into the kiss. It was good to be back at Durmstrang.

  
ooo0000ooo  


  
Mind Games  
Grindelwald's Chambers, (Feb 2nd )...

Softly rubbing his temple, Harry did his best to dissipate his growing headache. “How do you stop it?”

“Practice,” Calypso said succinctly. “You have have to practice the talent or else you'll have those random bouts of uncontrolled Legilimency.”

Harry had been walking up the main staircase when he randomly locked eyes with a jumpy passing first year. After ideally wondering what had the girl so nervous, he, unintentionally, entered her mind. Immediately, he was mentally bombarded with the girl's feelings of inadequacy and self-doubt surrounding an upcoming Transfiguration class. It was practically oppressive, and Harry had been so overwhelmed that he walked into a group of sixth years.

This was the sixth time, including the instance with Calypso, that Harry had inadvertently used Legilimency on someone, and he was really getting sick of it. Over the holiday, Harry had accidentally read the surface thoughts and emotions of his brother, and he hadn't been able to look Nathan in the eyes for a week – he didn't ever want to feel his own brother's arousal and desire to go wank!

“So, I have to practice Legilimency to stop using Legilimency?” he clarified.

Calypso nodded. “Yes, but you already knew that. I'm actually surprised that it's taken this long for you to experience so many frequent bouts of Legilimency. With your skill in Occlumency, it should be far more common. Typically, the more skilled the Occlumens, the more uncontrolled bursts of Legilimency you experience.”

“Can I practice on you?” Harry asked.

“I don't know if that's a good idea, Harry. Right now, I'm trying to build up my Occlumency, and father is periodically testing me, and I don't want to let down my guard for Occlumency right now. It might be best if you just practice on random students. Just concentrate on knowing what they are thinking and you'll eventually bring the ability under your control.”

“I guess I don't have a choice.” Harry muttered as the door opened and Kira and Viktor entered.

“Potter,” Kira greeted neutrally.

Curious to see what had Kira in such a good mood, Harry decided to test out his fledgling talent in Legilimency. He looked Kira right in the eyes and willed himself into her mind. He felt the uncomfortable disorientation, which caused him to feel momentarily lightheaded, before he felt a single strong emotion from Kira. Disgust. Before Harry could sense anything else though, he was forcefully ejected from Kira's mind.

“Protego!” Someone shouted to his left.

Shaking his head slightly, Harry saw a puke yellow curse bounce off a shield charm that was placed directly in front of him. The spell redirected and impacted a nearby chair, causing it to splinter into a thousand pieces. Glancing around the room, Harry saw that both Kira and Calypso had their wands out while Viktor seemed to be in a state of shock at the impromptu duel.

“Bitch!” Calypso roared, raising her wand – a dark purple spell glowing at the tip.

“NO!” Viktor exclaimed, casting a shield charm and putting himself between the two girls. “What is going on! Kira, why did you attack Harry?”

“Because she's an unstable, talentless, whore!” Calypso spat, enraged.

“Shut up you cunt!” Kira snarled. “The brat used Legilimency on me Viktor.”

“Harry, is that true?” Viktor asked, turning to look at Harry.

“I was practicing with Calypso. When Kira walked in, I was about to cast the spell, and accidentally used it on her.” Harry lied, cursing himself for forgetting that Kira knew some basic Occlumency. When she sensed his probe, she must have broke eye contact, and he was forced from her mind. Kira then retaliated by firing a curse at him, and Calypso cast the shield charm to protect him.

“He's lying!” Kira exclaimed. “The little half-blood is a fuc–”

“He said it was an accident.” Viktor barked out, stopping Kira . “Harry, please apologize.”

“I'm sorry,” Harry said tensely. “It was an accident.”

Kira simply glared at him before walking to a table far away from Harry and Calypso.

“She was in such a good mood too,” Viktor bemoaned before going to sit over by his temperamental girlfriend.

“Good job.” Calypso smiled happily. “I knew what you were doing the second your eyes lost focus. You must have caught her off-guard to get her that mad at you. Did you learn anything interesting?”

“No,” Harry said, “only that she really doesn't like me.”

Calypso snorted. “No surprise there. Perhaps that's enough Legilimency for today.”

“How long has Kira been an Occlumens, again?” Harry asked curiously.

“I wouldn't call her an Occlumens. Not like you are in any case,” Calypso replied. “She learned during our second year that I use some Legilimency during duels. Apparently, someone in her family isn't completely useless, and they explained the basics of Occlumency to her. She's been trying to improve for a while now, but without someone to help her, I doubt she'll ever actually become a true Occlumens.”

Frowning, Harry looked over to where Kira was sitting. Said girl looked up and sent him a very dark glare that promised retribution. The two held each others gazes for a moment, and Harry instinctively knew that he had crossed a line with Kira, and that she would not be forgetting any time soon.

ooo0000ooo  


  
Victory, Everlasting  
Main Hall, (Feb 14th)...

There was a brief moment of silence after the doors closed. If one listened closely, they could actually hear the sound of 1000 pairs of eyes blinking at once. Then, suddenly, a random second year stood up and started clapping. Immediately, more students began standing up and cheering while others began banging their goblets on the table. Even the Highmaster, who was quickly followed by the rest of the staff, stood up and began politely applauding.

“KRUM!” a particularly enthusiastic fourth year screamed.

“KRUM!”

“KRUM!”

“KRUM!”

The chant grew in volume as more and more students joined, and Harry was certain that some of the older students had to have cast the sonorus charm on themselves.

Seemingly indifferent towards his greeting, Viktor walked stoically towards his typical spot, across from Harry and Calypso.

“Viktor,” Harry greeted pleasantly, “you seem to have won over a few fans.”

Viktor scowled, but before he could say anything Kira arrived and pulled him into a very passionate kiss that brought forth several wolf-whistles from nearby students.

The reason for Viktor's enthusiastic greeting was his spectacular catch of the snitch against Peru in the round of 16. The day after the match, a pair of photographs appeared on the front page of every paper that covered Quidditch in the world. The first was a picture of Viktor fighting off the Peruvian Seeker, grabbing the snitch, and taking an oncoming Bludger to the face at full speed. The second image was of Viktor after the game, with his jaw broken and his right eye bleeding, raising the snitch to a roaring crowd in Italy.

The two powerful images, combined with Viktor's incredible catch, had skyrocketed his reputation. Even the most skeptical writer was now calling Viktor the next great international Quidditch star, and, naturally, his standing at Durmstrang had dramatically increased again. The few students who still openly disliked Viktor, feared retribution from the staff and other students if they so much as refrained from cheering for him. A group of Bulgarian students had even tried to convince the Highmaster to allow a Viktor Krum protection club. While the group was 'officially' not allowed, that didn't stop the group from performing its self-proclaimed duty to punish any student suspected of acting against their country's star seeker.

It took several loud coughs from Calypso before Kira released Viktor, who now looked a lot happier. “I am trying to eat here.”

“Well, don't let us stop you from leaving,” Kira responded, running a hand down Viktor's chest, and not bothering to look at Calypso.

“So, what was the damage?” Harry asked. “The pictures made it look horrible.”

“Broken right ocular socket, broken jaw, concussion, and I lost five teeth.” Viktor grimaced. “It took the healers three days to correct everything.”

“Poor baby,” Kira cooed. “Why don't I take you back to your room and kiss everything better.”

Viktor looked at Kira hungrily. “I think that sounds amazing.”

Harry was fighting the urge to laugh as Viktor and Kira quickly got up and left the Main Hall, but then he saw how ill Calypso looked. “What's wrong?” he asked in concern.

“Don't talk to me,” Calypso said weakly. “I think I'm about to throw up.”

“What happened? Did someone curse your food?”

Harry was halfway done casting a revealing charm when Calypso said, “No, I made the mistake of using Legilimency on Krum when Kira mentioned kissing him better. I did not want to see and feel... that!”

“See what?” Harry asked in confusion.

Calypso looked pained in a way that Harry had never seen before. “I saw them... doing it.”

“Doing it? Oh...OH!” Harry said in realization. “Wow, that's... wow.”

“Can we please change the subject.” Calypso practically begged. “I really need to get that memory out of my head.”

Harry smiled and shifted his body so that he was closer to her. “What would help you get rid of the image?”

“Anything,” Calypso said in disgust.

Without hesitation, Harry placed a soft kiss on Calypso's lips. Since most of the school had heard that they were courting, or dating, or whatever, there wasn't much shock to Harry's action. After a few moments, Harry pulled back. “Did that help?”

“Mmmhmm,” Calypso replied happily, “much better.”

“I told you it was true,” a nearby voice said, “The last Rosier has sullied herself with a half-blood.”

Harry and Calypso both looked up in anger at the speaker. It was a tall and broad shouldered boy, who was sneering at them from the table next to their own. Harry had never seen him before, but clearly Calypso recognized him. “Müller,” she sneered, “Didn't you learn your lesson in the last defense class? I see Lady Shluga managed to reattach all your fingers. What a shame.”

For a second, Müller swallowed nervously at Calypso's reminder of the duel during their Dark Arts class, but a look at the full staff table seemed to reassure him that she wouldn't be cursing him in the middle of the Main Hall. Turning away form Calypso, Müller looked at Harry with disdain. “You're trash, Potter, and everyone here knows it. Just because you're Rosemburg and Kosarev's pet doesn't mean that you'll ever be anything more than half a real wizard. Maybe if you did the world a favor and killed your mudblood mother, I'd admit that your existence is tolerable. Otherwise yo–”

Harry had raised his wand to curse Müller at the world mudblood, but Calypso had beaten him to the punch and sent a bone crushing spell, which destroyed the boy's collarbone. Müller's scream of agony immediately grabbed the entire hall's attention, as he fell out of his chair. Before Müller's friends could stand up and draw their wands, Professor Rosemburg had arrived.

“Don't even think about it,” Rosemburg snarled at one of Müller's friends, who was aiming a curse at Harry's back.

“What is going on here?” Karkaroff demanded, arriving a second later. Turning to look at Calypso and Harry, he snapped, “Which one of you cast the spell?”

Before Calypso could speak up, Harry said, “I did. He insulted my mother.”

“You'll serve detention with me tonight, Pott– ”

“I think not!” Karkaroff growled. “You favor the boy too much Nikolai. For cursing a fellow student in the Main Hall, Potter will serve detention with Ivan. Room 106 at eight tonight, Potter. Be on time.”  
“Yes sir,” Harry said, unable to keep the slight hitch out of his voice. Ivan was the Durmstrang caretaker, and he made Filch look like Saint Nicholas. The man had a vast collection of torture devices, and the mere threat of spending an evening in Ivan's office kept the peace at the tumultuous school.

“Müller, get yourself to the infirmary,” Rosemburg snarled, not looking at all sympathetic at the boy, “and don't think that this is an excuse for not turning in your essay tomorrow. It'll be done, or I'll send you to Ivan as well.”

As Müller's friends helped him out of the Main Hall, Harry felt Calypso take his hand and give it a squeeze. “Why did you do that?” she hissed quietly. “They would have gone easier on me.”

Harry simply remained silent. He knew why he had lied. He didn't want Calypso to get into trouble. It was a very strange feeling, and he wasn't sure what it meant.

ooo0000ooo

Detention  
Boys' Hallway, Durmstrang.

There was a sense of dread as Harry approached the simple brown door at the far end of the third floor corridor. During his three years at Durmstrang, he'd overheard all sorts of rumors and whispered conversations about Ivan Dutov. There were various stories about the man himself. Everything ranging from Ivan being the former commander of Grindelwald's legion – an over-zealous student support group at Durmstrang during the 40s that helped the Dark Lord maintain order at Durmstrang – to his supposed assassination attempt against the Portuguese Prime Minister in 1986.

For every ridiculous rumor though, there was always one constant. No matter who was telling the story, Ivan was never featured kindly. Doing his best to ignore the more outlandish rumors, Harry steadied himself before knocking twice on the caretaker's door.

As the seconds stretched on, Harry couldn't help but start to irrationally hope that Ivan had somehow forgotten about his detention. Such thoughts were quickly dashed when he heard the soft click of the door unlocking.

Upon entering Ivan's office, Harry's first instinct was to turn around and try a different room. Surely, with all the terrible rumors, Ivan's office should have resembled a dungeon. Instead, Harry had walked into any other professor's office. All around the room were various, non-threatening looking, magical trinkets and books. Letting out a slight breath he didn't know he was holding, Harry approached a girl sitting in a straight back chair directly in front of Ivan's desk.

“Excuse me, do you know where Mr. Dutov happens to be?”

If not for the most innocuous twitch at Ivan's name, Harry would have thought the girl in the chair hadn't heard him.

Stepping closer, he was slightly unnerved that the girl seemed to do her best to ignore him at all costs. In fact, were it not for the girl's steady breathing, Harry would have thought the girl had been petrified. He was about to reach out touch her shoulder when the door behind the desk opened.

Stepping back from the girl, Harry said, “Mr. Dutov, I'm here for my detention, sir.”

“Ms. Gabbles,” Ivan said, ignoring Harry completely, “your hour is up. I trust you've learned your lesson?”

“Yes,” Came the barely audible whispered response.

Ivan nodded, his eyes never straying from the student in front of him. “Excellent.” Reaching into his pocket, he removed a small blue vial from his robes and placed it in front of her. “The antidote. I've heard it tastes like pineapples. Drink it and you're free to go.”

Slowly, the girl lifted one hand to the vial. Each motion she made seemed to bring about a larger, more pronounced, wince. By the time her hand grasped the antidote, tears were running down her face, and her entire body seemed to be shaking. Using her thumb and forefinger, the girl popped the cork on the vial and slowly brought it up to her mouth.

Harry watched in disbelief as the simple act of uncorking the vial had caused the girl's fingers to quickly bruise, turn purple, and then begin to bleed.

As the vial inched closer to her mouth, the girl's shakes and soft whimpers became more and more pronounced. Eventually, her arm was shaking enough that the Harry thought the vial would surely slip from her grip and be crushed on the stone floor. Amazingly enough, the girl managed to get the vial to her mouth and drink it in one gulp. Almost immediately, she sagged into the desk, a moan of pain reverberating from her throat.

“Have a good day Ms. Gabbles. Do see Lady Shluga before you go to sleep.” Ivan commented casually.

For the first time, Harry started to understand why people spoke of Ivan in hushed tones. While hardly an imposing man – Ivan stood barely at five and a half feet – the more you watched Ivan, the more uncomfortable you grew. The man's movements seemed jerky and erratic, almost as if he wasn't comfortable in his own skin. He spoke pleasantly, but without any of the emotion the words typically conveyed, making him seem quite unnatural. Having never spent any time around the man, seeing him only at feasts where the entire staff was present, Harry only now recognized just how wrong Ivan really appeared.

Only after the girl had quickly gathered her belongings and quickly fled the room did Ivan turn his eyes to Harry.

“How are you this evening, Mr. Potter?”

“Well enough, sir,” Harry said uncomfortably. “Can I ask what–”

“Ms. Gomez rather foolishly attempted to cheat on her spell crafting quiz.” Ivan said simply. “She believed Professor Cherny wouldn't notice if she substituted an auto-correct quill for a standard one. She might have actually gotten away with it if Professor Cherny wasn't called away to Kiev and requested Professor Kosarev to proctor the quiz.”

Harry mentally filed the older girl as a particularly stupid individual.

“Now, what shall we do with you, Potter?” Ivan opened a drawer in his desk, quickly grabbing a piece of parchment and glancing at it. “Cursing students in the Main Hall, Mr. Potter?”

Growing more and more nervous, Harry decided simplicity was his best option. “Yes, sir.”

“Quite an offense, but you've never been punished before, have you?” Ivan asked. “May I ask why you did it?”

“He insulted my mother.”

Almost immediately, Harry felt Ivan prodding his mind with Legilimency. The attack came so sudden, Harry momentarily found himself seeing Calypso raise her wand to curse Müller. Immediately, Harry cleared his mind of emotion, stopping Ivan from seeing any more than he already had.

“Bravo, Mr. Potter. You're quite talented. Yes, I can see why the professors have taken such a shine to you.” Ivan tilted his head to the side slightly as he continued to probe for weaknesses in Harry's Occlumency. “Karkaroff says you are to receive lashes. Nasty things, lashes. Easy to heal though. You'll be fine in the morning. Fifteen solid licks sounds fair, I suppose. Is that agreeable to you, Mr. Potter?”

“Do I have a choice, sir?” Harry asked, still attempting to maintain his Occlumency against Ivan.

“Of course you do, Mr. Potter. Choice is what separates us from the animals. Would you like to be immobilized or face the whip standing on your own power?” Ivan muttered a spell and a long black whip sprung from the tip of his wand. Standing up, Ivan cracked the whip, causing Harry to wince.

“Immobilized.”

“Wise choice. Wand on the table, Mr. Potter”

It took every bit of control Harry had to remain calm and keep his mind Occluded while he stood up and placed his wand on the table. As soon as he stepped away, Harry found himself petrified from the neck down.

“Lashes,” Ivan said from behind Harry. “I've never been fond of them Potter. They're an all too Muggle way of punishment, but what can we do if that's what the Highmaster wants.”

Without warning, Ivan snapped the whip across Harry's body, striking him clean across the back.

Harry bit the inside of his mouth to keep from screaming; however, before he even fully processed the physical pain in his back, Ivan lashed out with a vicious Legilimency attack.

As Harry struggled to clear his mind, Ivan hit him with another strike from the whip – this one tearing the flesh from Harry's lower back. Unable to stop himself, Harry screamed as the pain shattered his attempt at clearing his mind. Immediately, memories began to flash before him. Being cornered after Transfiguration during his first year, the agony caused from a bone breaking curse to the back...

“No! No! Stop!” Harry cried out as Ivan continued to mercilessly strike out with the whip. Hanging his head, Harry started to sob. The physical pain from Ivan's whip was excruciating, but it was the feeling of utter helplessness as Ivan riffled through his unprotected mind that was truly scaring.

It didn't take long for Ivan to discover that Harry had lived a very comfortable life. The number of painful memories were few and far between, and Harry could actually feel the man's disappointment as he began putting more of effort in the lashes instead of Legilimency. As Harry remembered his former classmates from Ravenclaw taunt him behind his back, he lost track of the number of times Ivan had struck him with the whip. It wasn't until Harry felt a burst of twisted happiness in his mind that he was able to pull himself out of his darkest thoughts. Using the feeling of happiness as a base, Harry mounted one last attempt to clear his mind and push Ivan out.

A soothing chill ran down Harry's back as a number of the lashes on his back began to heal. “You've done better than most, Mr. Potter.” Ivan said. “Only one more before you're free to go.”

The thought of finally being free from Ivan caused Harry to cry. A whirlwind of emotions – elation, hope, rage, embarrassment – effectively destroying any chance he had at clearing his mind. Feeling Harry's attempt at Occlumency fail, Ivan lashed out with one final burst of Legilimency quickly followed by a strike with his whip.

As Harry felt the 15th strike slam against against his back, the memory of himself, his body magically held upright in Ivan's office, flickered to the front of his mind. He saw his clothing in tattered, bloodstained piece, his head hung in defeat as tears ran freely down his face. All the while a grinning Ivan walked calmly behind him, occasionally muttering Legilimency and bringing the whip down across his back.

The moment Harry felt the memory fade, so did the spell immobilizing him. His legs immediately gave out from underneath him, and it was only Ivan's quick wand work that stopped Harry from cracking his head open on the stone floor. Muttering various healing charms, Harry felt the pain from the last lash begin to fade across his back.

“All done.” Ivan said before taking out a headache potion and placing it on the floor next to Harry. “Go. Curfew is in 10 minutes, and I doubt you want to be seeing me for detention tomorrow, do you?”

Harry didn't say a word. He just picked up the vial and scurried out of the office.

ooo0000ooo

Conjuring and Conjecture  
Harry's Room, (Feb 27th)...

Few would recognize the change in Harry Potter after his detention with Ivan. His grades remained top notch, he still spent exorbitant amounts of time in the library, and he still remained friendly with only two people. However, for those two people, it was obvious that something had happened to their friend. It was only after a few weeks that Calypso could put her finger on what it was.

“You're utilizing Occlumency a lot more these days.”

“Yes,” Harry replied softly, not lifting his eyes to meet his friend.

“Why?” Calypso did her best to keep the question innocuous, but something about it made Harry tense suddenly.

“I need to get better at it.”

Blinking in confusion, Calypso said, “You're already –”

“I need to get better at it.”

Harry didn't shout, he didn't even raise his voice, but Calypso pulled back somewhat. The finality of his statement weighed heavily on the atmosphere in the room. They read in silence until Calypso happened to spot an owl just outside the window.

“You have a letter.”

Closing his book, Harry saw that indeed there was a small owl looking expectantly at him from outside. Opening the window, he pulled the bird inside and removed its letter.

Calypso looked curiously at the owl. “Who's it from?”

“I don't know,” Harry said, not recognizing the owl or the elegant loopy handwriting on the front of the letter. Curious, he opened it.

Harry,

I was having the most pleasant lunch with your mother the other day, and she happened to mention your rather ambitious final project for Transfiguration.

Now, while I normally refrain from giving too much advice to students – it could easily be seen as favoritism if I were to do such a thing – your mother pointed out that you, sadly, are no longer attending Hogwarts. Something, I admit, I find myself deeply regretting, but that is a subject for another time. Now, since I know a little bit about Transfiguration, I hope you will indulge this old man's ramblings long enough for me to give you some pointers.

There has, for the most part, always been one school of thought in regard to conjuring. It has been long believed that size and complexity matter a great deal when you first start learning how to conjure. In fact, as I'm sure you are aware, most Transfiguration masters would suggest that you start practicing on smaller objects, such as beads, buttons, and needles, and once you've been able to conjure them, begin moving onto larger objects.

I, however, have long disagreed with this school of thought. It is my belief – and I should point out that no one is infallible – that it is best to first start practicing conjuring on something that you have a lot of knowledge about or an emotional attachment to. For example, if I were to start relearning how to conjure, the first thing I would attempt would be a copy of my favorite pair of socks since I have had them for many years and possess an intricate knowledge of their appearance, size, and texture.

Also, you should always remember to take your time as you begin to study conjuration. At your age, I know you want to quickly learn and master every bit of magic, but conjuring is not something that can be successfully mastered in a year's time. Even one as old as I still have much to learn about conjuring and its limits. I would also suggest that you try to avoid conjuring multiple objects until you have spent at least a year or two learning the skill. The more objects you attempt to conjure, there is a larger chance of something going very wrong with the magic involved.

Now, I suggest you go through your trunk tonight and take out several items. Notice the unique way each items feels. Their difference in weight, texture, appearance, and anything else you can think of. Then, find an item that you feel stands out to you a great deal. Spend some time committing it completely to memory. Once you are confident you can perfectly imagine it in your mind, attempt to cast the spell Inanimatus Conjurus. I'm certain the result will be to your liking.

I do hope this small letter is of some help to you as you further your study in Transfiguration

All my best,

Albus

“It must be nice,” Calypso said wistfully as she read over Harry's shoulder, “to have the foremost master of transfiguration explain conjuring to you.”

Harry could feel a tide of emotions building, and he struggled to stay calm. After several steadying breaths, he did his best to smile. Not noticing as Calypso looked on in concern. “Professor Dumbledore has been like a grandfather to Nathan and me. It was kind of him to do this. I'll have to write him back and say thank you.”

“Are you going to write him back now?”

“No,” Harry said, summoning his trunk. “Now, I'm going to try his way of conjuring.”

Calypso did her best to subtly observe her boyfriend as he set about incorporating Dumbledore's advice. Harry said the right things, he smiled and appeared happy when he managed to improve upon his conjurations, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

ooo0000ooo

A Changing of the Guard  
Dark Arts Classroom, (March 7th)...

“Potter, Schaeuble you're up next,” Professor Rosier said, brining about a series of whispers from the students.

Rising up from his seat, Harry made his way up to the dueling platform, his face a blank mask. As he stood on the platform, he appraised his opponent. Bernice Schaeuble was a slightly plump looking witch, who was known more for her ability with Charms than the Dark Arts. Rumor had it she was particularly gifted with the confundus charm, not that he would give her the opportunity to cast it.

As the two faced each other, Harry reached out with his fledgling talents at Legilimency. While he was still uncomfortable splitting his focus enough to use it during duels, he could get an early read on his opponent fairly easily. It took less than a second for Harry to sense that Bernice was more than a little bit intimidated by him.

After a very short bow, Harry took up his new dueling stance and prepared for Professor Rosier to start the duel. Across from him, he could tell Bernice was still uncertain how to approach his new dueling style.

While the platform had a silencing charm placed around it, a single glance into the crowed told Harry that his classmates were still confused about the changes he'd made a few weeks ago. He'd spent a lot of time working to incorporate a more aggressive approach into his dueling, and he finally felt comfortable enough to go all out without holding back in case something went wrong.

While at first glance his base form appeared the same – with his body turned to the side in a typical defensive stance – there were several subtle difference that spoke to Harry's more aggressive style. Instead of standing tall with his wand pointed down towards the ground, an excellent defensive form. Harry's legs were now bent at the knees, allowing for quick movements at the start of the duel, and his wand arm was held shoulder length across his body, making curses easier to cast than shields.

“You will start,” Professor Rosier said, “in 3...2...1...begin.”

Without hesitating, Harry slashed his arm across his body, firing a cutting curse at his opponent, who had to duck to avoid it. Stepping forward, Harry launched into a minor spell chain. A cutting spell, banishment charm, and stunner flew from his wand before Bernice could so much as rise up to her feet. Her rushed Protego absorbed the first two spells, but was quickly brought down by the stunner.

Before she had a chance to recover, Harry sent a bone splintering curse at her crouched form. She attempted to dive to the side in order to avoid, but the spell caught Bernice in the ribs, causing her to fall to the ground grasping her side in pain. Harry's quick stunner rendered her unconscious, and ended the duel immediately.

Breathing deeply, Harry did his best to keep his emotions in check as he walked off the platform. All around him, his peers stared at him with a varying degree of shock, apprehension, and, for those few who knew they would duel him in the coming weeks, fear. He'd never been so outwardly aggressive in any of duels, and Harry could practically see the more talented duelists already trying to work out how to deal with this new version of Harry Potter.

ooo0000ooo

Discussions.  
Romulus' Office, (March 13th )...

“You wanted to talk to me, father?”

Glancing at his daughter from behind his desk, Romulus Rosier smiled. “Please, have a seat. How have your classes been?”

“Good. Professor Cherny approved of my spell creation project.”

Romulus nodded. “Yes, he mentioned it. Some kind of illusion charm. I look forward to seeing the final product.”

Calypso remained silent. Her father was not the kind of man to call her into his office to talk about her academic progress.

“What can you tell me about Mr. Potter of late?”

Doing her best not to give anything away, Calypso said, “His Charms project is really starting to take sha–”

“I mean personally, Calypso.”

“Nothing that I can thi–”

A stinging hex smacked into Calypso's knuckles causing her to shriek in surprise.

“Don't lie.” Romulus chided.

“I don't know. Something happened. I-I don't know what. He's different now,” Calypso said, struggling to explain herself suddenly. “When he's not using Occlumency, he's... well, he's not really nervous or scared, but he's...”

“On edge,” Romulus supplied thoughtfully. “I've noticed, though I had hoped you would know what caused it.”

“I don't,” Calypso said, feeling her father's Legilimency reaching out to confirm her truthfulness. “Harry always has his wand either drawn or easily accessible now, even when he's walking between classes. There was an accident in spell creation the other day. This girl was showing Professor Cherny her final project idea when there was an accidental explosion. Harry had a shield around himself before anyone else had their wand out, and the way he was looking at the girl who was responsible.... I've never seen Harry look that angry before, but in a blink of an eye he was seemingly back to normal and getting back to work. Whatever is bothering him, he's using Occlumency to hide it.”

“How long has been going on?”

Calypso shrugged. “I don't know. A few weeks at least. I tried asking about it a few times, but he just closes off behind his Occlumency.”

“Have you done anything?” Romulus asked.

“No,” Calypso said emphatically.

Romulus leaned back in his chair. “His spell work has improved of late.”

“I heard about his last duel,” Calypso said, sensing that was the true reason behind her father's interest.

“Yes, he was very good...” Romulus trailed off in remembrance. Harry Potter had always been among the top duelists in Dark Arts; however, after two years, Romulus felt confident that he had the young man's style pegged for the most part. Typically, Potter would use his superior knowledge of spells to weather any initial attack, and then counter with everything from curses to Transfiguration. However, his last duel ended in a matter of moments. It was quick, brutal, and rather unexpected.

“You need to figure out what caused this change,” Romulus said. “The other professors have begun to notice something is amiss with him, though they suspect it stems from the threat on his brother's life at Hogwarts.”

Calypso fought the urge to roll her eyes. “I've tried, father. He doesn't want to talk about it. I can only hope he'll tell me when he's ready.”

“This isn't a request.” Romulus narrowed his eyes angrily at his daughter's reaction. “You are to find out and report back to me. We will speak every week at this time until the end of the semester. I expect to kept up to date on your progress. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.” Calypso angrily stood up and left the room without waiting to be dismissed.

ooo0000ooo

The Announcement  
Main Hall, (March 26th )...

“So that's it?” Harry asked. “You're done?”

“I wish I didn't have to stop, Harry, I really do. I just don't have the time,” Viktor said in resignation. “I'm just too exhausted to spend time working on the transformation.”

“I understand Viktor.” Kira rubbed her boyfriend's hand softly. “You're way too busy right now. Besides, you know your form. There will be time for you to become an animagus when you're not dealing with Quidditch.”

Silently, Harry admitted to himself that Kira had a point, and Viktor had been looking uncharacteristically exhausted of late. Ever since Bulgaria had defeated Australia in the quarterfinals of the Quidditch World Cup, Viktor had been getting more and more ragged every day. “I understand. I've noticed how tired you've looked lately, but you've never complained about your Quidditch schedule before.”

“That's because it's not the practices and the international Portkeys that are so tiring. I've dealt with those for well over a year.” Viktor seemed to grow more irritated as he spoke. “It's the media! They hound me now. There are journalists at every practice, and I'm obligated to speak to them. Half the time they don't even ask questions about Quidditch. One witch yesterday asked me if I was in favor of increasing the international restrictions on fire salamander eggs! I didn't even know fire salamanders laid eggs.”

“So I guess we can expect you to fail Potions?” Calyspso said sarcastically. “After all, you've only been using fire salamander eggs in that class for the last two years.”

“Rosier,” Kira said sweetly, “why don't you go do us all a favor and fucking die.”

Viktor simply ignored Calypso's jab. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Since my next game is in June, I will be able to get all of you tickets if you want to come and watch me play.”

Kira grinned broadly. “Really?”

“Yes, we'll play the winner of the Sweden/Japan match on the sixth in Paris.”

“I appreciate it,” Harry said. While he wasn't a huge Quidditch fan, Viktor was his friend and he'd show him his support.

“Well, you know I'll go Viktor.” Kira kissed Viktor's cheek in appreciation.

Viktor smiled and then turned to look at Calypso, who was intently looking at her potatoes and ignoring the conversation. “I can get you a ticket as well if you would like to go,” Viktor said, ignoring the incredulous look Kira was giving him.

Calypso appeared just as surprised as Kira at the offer.

Before Calypso could respond, everyone's attention shifted to the staff table where the Highmaster had stood up. Every professor had reminded their class that there was a mandatory dinner tonight, and that the Highmaster would be making an announcement of 'great importance.' Rumors from Karkaroff announcing his own retirement, to the banning of all half-bloods were circulating the school, and even Harry found himself incredibly curious about what was going to be discussed.

When the entire hall had grown silent in anticipation, Karkaroff looked over his students imperiously. “It gives me great pleasure to announce that the first Triwizard Tournament in almost three hundred years will take place next year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” Immediately excited chatter began around the hall, however, it was quickly quelled by a cannon blast charm leaving Karkaroff's wand. “Silence,” he commanded. “Now, as I was saying, after fifteen months of negotiations, the three great magical academies of Europe have provisionally decided to reintroduce the Triwizard Tournament. We are still negotiating several conditions, however, the preliminary rules have been agreed upon, and Durmstrang has pledged to compete next year.”

“For those of you who are not aware. The Triwizard Tournament is a competition of great honor between Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, and Hogwarts. A single student is chosen from each school, and the three compete in a challenging magical tournament. Durmstrang has always represented itself well in this tournament, and I expect our current class of students will hold up this tradition.”

“Technically, anyone who considers themselves a current Durmstrang student can be chosen as our champion; however, I will only be taking forty students with me to Hogwarts. From those forty, our school's champion will be chosen. Know that the selection process is already ongoing, and only the best shall be given the opportunity to represent Durmstrang.”

“Finally, before you fools start trying to badger or bribe your professors to improve your chances, know that fame, money, and connections will not sway the one who chooses our champion, and only those with exceptional talent shall be selected to represent Durmstrang at Hogwarts.”

The moment Karkaroff sat down, conversations exploded around the Main Hall.

“I can't believe the Triwizard Tournament is back,” Kira said excitedly. “Oh, I have to ask professor Cherny what I can do to get selected. I know I'd make a great champion.”

Calypso snorted. “Do you really think that you will be chosen as Durmstrang's champion?”

“And I suppose you think a half-trained third year could compete!” Kira snapped.

While Viktor attempted to stop another argument between Calypso and Kira, Harry completely ignored the bickering. He knew next to nothing about this Triwizard Tournament, but the image of him, standing in front of his old peers in Ravenclaw as the Durmstrang champion was intoxicating. He could practically see their shocked faces as he was announced, the most talented student at Durmstrang – a school that far outclassed Hogwarts.

But was he good enough to be named the Durmstrang champion? He was, after all, only going to be a fourth year during the tournament, and there were some very talented upper classmen. With his mind made up, Harry decided to ask Rosemburg and Kosarev about this tournament.

ooo0000ooo

  
The Breaking Point  
Durmstrang Grounds, ( April 11th)...

Shaking with rage, Harry eyed his target. Raising his wand, a murderous expression on his face, he snarled, “Crucio!”

The sickly yellow curse left his wand and struck the creature, the force of the spell caused it to fly backwards a few feet before it got up up and tried to escape.

“Crucio.”

Again the small animal fell to the floor, twitched momentarily, and quickly got up to flee.

“Just what did that thing ever do to make you so upset?”

Whirling around, a curse on the tip of his tongue, Harry found himself jabbing his wand into Calypso's chest. The rage in his eyes dimmed slightly. “I'm –”

“...trying to use an unforgivable against a frog of all things. I can see that,” Calypso finished, looking concerned. “What I don't understand is why. What did your father write that has you so upset?”

Trembling slightly, Harry removed the slightly crumbled letter from his pocket and handed it to Calypso.

Son,

This is a very difficult letter to write. The first thing I want to assure you is that Nathan is alright.

With that said, last night, Peter was able to access Gryffindor tower after he found a list of passwords that had been accidentally lost during a Care of Magical Creature's lesson. Apparently, the new guardian of Gryffindor tower was periodically changing the passwords, and Neville Longbottom was having a difficult time remembering them.

Peter, well, he made his way up to your brother's dormitory with a knife. Fortunately, he didn't know which bed was Nathan's, and he accidentally woke up Ron Weasley, whose screams alerted everyone else. Peter tried to stab Ron, but Nathan was able to send a the blasting spell, confrigo, at him (thank you so much for telling Nathan about that spell Harry, it probably saved Ron's life). The curse caused massive damage to the dormitory, and all that we found left of Peter was some blood and a finger.

The Dementors will stay around Hogwarts until the end of the year, but early indications are that Peter is dead.

Nathan is, obviously, not taking the news that he has killed someone very well. Your mother and I are trying to encourage him to focus on other things, but it is difficult. Your uncle Sirius and I bought Nathan a firebolt racing broom as an early birthday present. This seems to have helped a bit. Nathan has a big Quidditch match coming up against Slytherin and the firebolt has helped to keep his focus on the match and not on what happened with Peter.

Please, write your brother Harry. He needs to hear from you.

Love Always,  
Dad

Calypso silently returned the letter to Harry. “I still don't understand. Why are you cursing a frog?”

“Toad,” Harry corrected angrily. “Longbottom has a toad.”

“I see,” Calypso replied wrapping her arms around Harry and looking into his eyes. “And why do you want to hurt Longbottom's pet?”

Harry felt his breathing quicken. Try as me might, he couldn't clear his mind. Just like it had when he first read the letter in the Main Hall, Harry knew his emotions were about to explode, and there was nothing he could do to stop them. Rather than try, he snarled, “This is all Longbottom's fault. That stupid, fat, god forsaken piece of Thestral shit is the reason my brother could have died!” Harry's energy seemed to leave him after his proclamation and a few tears made there way down his face. “Nathan could have died.”

Pulling Harry close to her, Calypso kissed his cheek. “But he didn't,” she whispered. “He's alright.”

“No thanks to Longbottom.” Harry spat out angrily.

“Harry,” Calypso voice softened, “don't do this.”

“Do what!”

Calypso met her friend's eyes directly. “Something's wrong. Something besides this! You've been closed off for weeks. Please, just tell me.”

Harry remained stubbornly silent, refusing to give any indication that Calypso was right.

“Harry, look at yourself!” She eventually snapped, unable to bare the continued silence. “You're trying to cast an unforgivable!”

“What do you care,” Harry finally said. “I'm sure when you run off to tell on me to your father, he'll be so impressed.”

Doing her best to ignore the slight stab of pain Harry's comment had caused, Calypso said, “This isn't Longbottom's fault. He wasn't trying to harm your brother. Pettigrew was.”

Harry's face darkened.

“You don't want to do this, Harry. I know you're better than this.” Calypso motioned for Harry to turn around and look behind him. “What do you see sitting on the fallen log?”

Reluctantly doing as Calypso asked, Harry turned around.

“Well?” Calypso asked again.

“It's the toad,” he replied heatedly.

“Yes it is,” she said, “and does that toad look like it has just been subjected to the most painful curse ever created?”

“No,” Harry growled. “It looks...fine.”

“That's because you didn't properly cast the spell.” Calypso paused. “When you thought of cursing the creature, you were thinking about Longbottom, right?”

“Yes.”

“And did you want Longbottom to suffer? Did you want to enjoy watching him writhe in pain? Or are you simply hurt, upset, angry.” Calypso reached out and touched Harry's shoulder. “Maybe a little scared for your brother.”

“I--I was–”

“It's okay.” Calypso walked around her boyfriend, looked deeply into his eyes, and hugged him.

While he resisted at first, Harry found himself sagging into the hug and embracing it. He wasn't sure how long they held each other, he didn't really care. He was so very tired of keeping everything bottled up. Eventually, he said, “It was Ivan.”

“What?” Calypso asked softly.

“The detention wasn't lashes,” Harry's voice trembled slightly as if telling Calyspo the truth somehow brought all the original feelings back. “I mean, it was, but it was so much more than that. He used Legilimency on me. I couldn't stop him. I just... I couldn't keep him out. I just... he... he beat me.”

The admission caused Harry's anger to return tenfold. “That fucking Serb beat me. He had me immobilized in his office, and he just kept hitting me until I couldn't take it anymore, and I just gave up. I couldn't keep him out...” Harry laughed – a broken bitter laugh that echoed around the woods. “I didn't even try after a while. I just cried and let him tear into my mind without the slightest attempt at stopping him!”

“I hate Ivan, Calypso,” Harry's voice was empty, devoid of any real emotion. “but I hate that I gave up so much more. I've never felt so weak, so utterly pathetic... so helpless.”

He couldn't help it. The memory of himself – broken and beaten – being whipped in Ivan's office immediately came to the forefront of his mind. Rather than using Occlumency to suppress it as he had mostly tried over the previous month, Harry let himself go. He knew every detail of the scene. Everything from Ivan's grinning face, to the number of tears that fell from his face. While the memory once brought him nothing but embarrassment and shame, now he could feel nothing but hatred.

Whirling around, Harry thrust his wand forward and spat, “Crucio.”

The moment he said the incantation – fueling the spell with all the hate, anger, and self-loathing he could muster – he felt hot, fresh, tears falling down his face.

When the creature began twisting and screeching in agony on the ground, Harry didn't see a toad. He saw Ivan grinning, he saw Peter raising the knife to kill his brother, and he saw the bleeding and broken version of him hanging in Ivan's office crying for mercy – a mercy he wouldn't give.

Harry wasn't sure how long he held the spell. Truthfully, he didn't care. It wasn't until he felt the last of his emotions leave him that he lowered his wand, and he sagged to the wet ground feeling physically and emotionally exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to break down and cry, but he didn't have any tears left, not for Ivan, not for Peter, not even for himself. Now it was time to move on.

Reaching out, Calypso carefully removed Harry's wand – her face pale and ashen at the vicious display she had just witnessed. “Come on, Harry, let's... let's get you back to your room, okay?”

With Calypso's help, Harry slowly stood up, and the two of them made their way back to the castle. He never noticed the notice-me-not charm Calypso weaved around them to keep passersby from bothering them, nor the way her eyes narrowed into slits of barely concealed rage as they passed Ivan casually chastising a fifth year.

ooo0000ooo

An Unwelcome Diagnosis  
Hospital Wing, Durmstrang, (April 19th)...

“I'm sorry,” Lady Shluga said sincerely, “but there has been no change. These new potions have had no noticeable effect either.”

“Is there nothing else we can try?”

Lady Shulga looked at her patient in pity before turning to her father. “You know how extensive the damage was Romulus. I always said it would take time to see if she made a full recovery. Perhaps in another few years there will be some signs of improvement.”

“Please give my daughter and I a moment.”

“Of course,” Lady Shulga said bowing herself out of the room.

“Calypso–”

“You know,” she said quietly, a far away look in her eyes. “a part of me is glad nothing's changed.”

Romulus glared angrily at his daughter. “You will have to tell him.”

“Eventually. And by then he won't care.”

“You don't know that. Has he even agreed to consider a contract?”

“No. No, he hasn't, and it doesn't matter anymore.”

“So confident that you've won,” Romulus mocked. “Planning on Imperiusing him? Or perhaps a subtle drugging with love potion?”

“No.” While Calypso kept her voice respectful, her eyes gave away the rage she felt at her father's words.

The anger exchanged between father and daughter were tangible. “Rosemburg mentioned that he is interested in the Triwizard Tournament,” Romulus remarked. “You will need to go to Hogwarts, and his family will find out about your relationship.”

The first look of doubt appeared on Calypso's face. “It won't matter. Not anymore.”

“Don't be stupid.” Romulus snapped. “Do you truly think he cares about you more than them?”

“No,” Calypso replied, “but, he does cares about me.”

Romulus curled his lip as if tasting something unpleasant. “Sometimes that just isn't enough, daughter.”

“In this case, it will be, father.”

“I've had enough, do as you wish daughter. You obviously made your choice when you stopped coming to our meetings. There will be consequences for that, I can assure you,” Romulus saw uncertainty pass through his daughter's eyes before she seemingly made a decision.

“Then consider this my last report on Harry Potter. You want to know why he's different? Why he stopped holding back?” Seeing that she had her father's undisguised attention, Calypso said, “I can't prove it, but I suspect Ivan embedded a false memory into Harry's mind during their detention. Harry said Ivan used Legilimency extensively on him during his detention – that Ivan managed to break into his mind – but I remember seeing Harry afterwards, and he was fine. It wasn't until almost a week after the detention that he started using Occlumency more.”

“A false memory?” Romulus asked curiously. “One that would eventually take the place of the actual detention?”

Calypso nodded.

“That... is very intricate magic,” Romulus mused. “Ivan would have had to plant the memory deep into Mr. Potter's subconscious – though if he were distracted at the time it could be done. It would have had to gradually take the place of the real memory through dreams and recollections.”

“Does the oath cover Legilimency?” Calypso asked bluntly.

“I'm unsure. Ivan has very strict limits as to what he can subject a student to physically, and his potion usage is highly restricted, but...” Romulus trailed off.

“But?” Calypso pressed.

Romulus looked at his daughter seriously. “I don't have to tell you how useful Legilimency can be, especially against those who don't suspect you know it. After two years of working here, I was not aware that Ivan was capable of Legilimency, and if I wasn't aware of it...”

“Then the Highmaster might not have placed it into his oath,” Calypso realized. “So it's possible then? Harry's memory of his detention, it's not real?”

“To him? It would be as real as any other memory he's ever had. In fact, the memory would be more detailed, clearer, than any other.” Romulus frowned in thought. “However, if Ivan had used extensive Legilimency against Mr. Potter – to the point of breaking into his mind – it would have been a very traumatic ordeal. That is the problem with false memories. If you do not catch them quickly, if you give them the time to seep in, they become harder to detect as the mind begins to accept them as true. Ironically, Mr. Potter's use of Occlumency likely stopped us from realizing if his memories were altered or not, perhaps Ivan counted on that to get away with it. Have you spoken to Mr. Potter about the possibility of the memory not being real?”

Calypso shook her head. “No, I'm not sure telling Harry would be a good idea. If the memory is fake, it's just another way Ivan bested him. I won't do that to him, especially since we can't tell him for certain.”

“I suppose we shall just live with this new Harry Potter then.”

A large smile worked its way across Calypso's face before she could stop herself.

“Something you wish to add, daughter?”

Cursing herself, Calypso shook her head. “No, sir.”

The Legilimency probe came immediately, as Calypso knew it would. Using every trick she knew, Calypso just managed to keep her father out.

“Something has happened.” Romulus' eyes were hard as he continued to probe his daughter's mind, frustrated slightly at her improvement. “What aren't you telling me?”

Her eyes shining in triumph at keeping her father out, Calypso decided a partial truth wouldn't hurt. “Harry's moved on from it.” Calypso couldn't keep her pride from her voice. “There was, well something happened a few days ago, he found a way to make peace with what happened. Regardless of whether the memory is real or not, Harry's better off now than he was before.”

Eventually Romulus pulled his Legilimency back, recognizing the futility of continued probing. Unable to hide his displeasure, Romulus said, “So I should expect his progress to regress next year.”

Calypso was already up and walking out of the Hospital wing – she seriously doubted she'd be able to keep her father out of her mind again. Just before exiting the door, she turned around and simply smiled in a knowing fashion. “Oh, I think Harry will surprise you a great deal father.”

As the door closed behind Calypso, Romulus couldn't help but admit, “He already has, my dear, as have you.”

ooo0000ooo

Throwing Out the Books  
Grindelwald's Library, (May 14th)

Meditation was fairly simple. The animagus tranformation was not.

Clear your mind. Empty yourself of emotion. Drift away with only your key characteristics in mind.

Harry Potter laughed at the contradictory nature of the advice. Know yourself, but don't think about it. Clear your mind, but focus on yourself. Maybe, somewhere in the convoluted mess that was the animagus transformation there were some good ideas, but it was likely lost along the way.

No, Harry was done with the traditional approach. It had been over six months since Viktor found his form, and it was time to try something different.

Rather than clearing his mind, Harry opened himself up completely. If any Legilimens were to so much as walk into the room, they'd zero in on him immediately, which was why he was practicing by himself. Not that he didn't trust Calypso – in fact, he trusted her more than ever before. She had promised not to tell anyone about his use of an unforgivable, even going so far as to allow Harry to use Legilimency on her to confirm her truthfulness.

Still, that didn't mean he wanted someone – anyone really – to see him like this. Not when he would be so focused he wouldn't even detect the Legilimency.

Sitting on the floor, Harry did his best to relax.

Thoughts came and went uninhibited, plans, goals, ideas. He let himself jump from subject to subject, not once trying to reel in his thought process. Thoughts of Ivan's detention came and went, along with a dozen other memories. Each having their own importance, but not one defining him. He was more than any one thing, he was the sum of his life. Nothing more, nothing less.

He was a wizard – a great one – or he would be someday. Perhaps that was arrogant of him, but he didn't care. Harry admitted arrogance was certainly one of a few negative traits he had. The fact that after six months he still refused to even consider that he couldn't become an animagus certainly gave some credence to that. The difference was that he didn't just believe he would be a great wizard, he worked at it – obsessed over it according to Calypso – but that wasn't a bad thing.

The jealousy he once felt over his brother's patronus had fueled him to do better himself. He had feared succeeding in the Dark Arts once. Now he just wanted to improve because regardless of whether he improved, someone else would. Someone would study the magic, someone could use his ignorance against him.

Losing. Being beaten again. He was done with that. Not because he feared it, but because he should be better than that.

The best. That was what he would be. He loved to learn, to succeed.

Slowly, he felt all his other emotions begin to ebb away. That's what he was really about, what he craved more than anything else. Besides being loyal to a few friends and family members, nothing else mattered to him. Learning, striving to become the smartest, the strongest, the greatest wizard he could ever be, that's who he was.

Abruptly, Harry realized something was very wrong. There was a painful tugging in his chest, and his entire body shuddered involuntarily.

Instinctively, Harry opened his eyes, only to discover that his visionwas off slightly.

Terrified that he had somehow messed up the Animagus transformation, Harry tried to stand, only to realize that he now had four legs and no arms. Unused to having an extra pair of legs, he lost his balance and tipped forward, smashing his face against the floor. Scrambling, Harry did his best to comprehend what had happened. Had he found his animagus form? If so, what was he?

As soon as the question was asked, the answer seemed to come to him. Images of an elegant, muscular, and powerful four legged creature entered his mind. He had a well proportioned chest, a short back, and a lean, muscular neck. His hair was black and it clung tightly to his body. He could feel his strong and sharp teeth, and he knew that his bite was fierce, but that didn't matter right now. He had a job to do, a goal, and he'd succeed... if he could only remember what it was.

He felt the urge to run and play in the back of his mind, but only with a select few people, always only with a select few. The rest, the others, they weren't to be trusted. Them he would watch carefully – though not lash out at. No he was calm, collected, and always under control, but should they ever dare step out of line, then they'd learn of his fierce bite.

The sound of the door opening caused Harry to spin around. A low warning growl escaped his lips, and he felt his leg coil and stiffen, ready to attack at a moment's notice.

As soon as he saw Calypso, he relaxed and his aggression seemed to immediately disappear, replaced by a sense of relief and playfulness. Testing out his new limbs, he began happily trotting over to her. When Calypso saw him, she quickly drew her wand, causing Harry to immediately halt his advance in confusion. Resting his back legs, he sat down and stared up at Calypso. He felt his tongue roll out of the side of his mouth. Why didn't she want to play?

After a brief staring contest, Calypso's eyes widened slightly. “Harry?”

Woof!

Calypso laughed and quickly ran over to him. “You're beautiful,” she cooed before rubbing her hands throughout his thin fur coat.

Leaning into Calypso's touch, Harry relaxed.

ooo0000ooo

The Exam  
Dark Arts Classroom, (May 22th)

“Expecto Patronum!”

Harry felt his wand pulse with energy before a massive spectral figure leaped out of it. The four legged creature raced around the walls of the classroom, snarling and searching for a Dementor to attack. When it found none, it came to stand next to Harry. Its silver, misty, eyes glowing with a profound sense of power.

“Impressive,” Romulus said, sounding bored. “What animal is it?”

“A doberman,” Harry responded, smiling at his patronus before it slowly faded away to nothing.

Romulus said nothing. “I see. Well, is that it?”

“There is something,” Harry said honestly, “but I wasn't able to get it ready in time.”

“We've spoken about this before, Mr. Potter,” Romulus said observing his student curiously, “You will not earn the top spot with just the Patronus charm. Perhaps you should show me what you're working on?”

“I'm sorry, sir, but it's just not ready. I don't have anything else to show you.” When Professor Rosier remained silent, Harry stood up and made to leave the room.

“Stop.”

Harry stopped.

“Professor Rosemburg mentioned that you wish to go back to Hogwarts and compete in the Tri-Wizard Tournament.” It was statement so Harry stayed silent, knowing his professor wasn't finished. “Do you honestly believe that you are good enough to be named the Durmstrang champion Potter?”

“I would represent Durmstrang to the best of my ability,” Harry replied confidently.

Romulus looked down at Harry in mild disapproval. “I have no doubt that you will be given one of the spots. Rosemburg has been telling the staff all about your impressive control of conjuring, and Kosarev will not stop raving about your illusion charms. My question is do you simply wish to go to Hogwarts, Mr. Potter, or do you want to become the Durmstrang champion?”

“I don't want to become the Durmstrang champinon sir, I want to win the tournament,” Harry said emphatically, dropping all pretense of humility.

Silently, Romulus went to his desk and retrieved a piece of parchment from a drawer. “Then you must improve your ability to cast the Dark Arts. You've made noticeable improvements over the last several weeks, but you need to do better. In previous tournaments, the champions have been pitted against creatures of incredible power. Dragons, Chimeras, Manticores, Cockatrices, and Quintapeds have all appeared in the tournament. There was even a discussion once about bringing a Nundu in for a tournament in the 15th century; however, the organizers couldn't quite figure out how to set up a task that would prevent the creature from killing everyone in attendance. Now, do you think you will be able to transfigure or charm creatures such as this? Do you think subtle magic will be enough?”

Personally, Harry thought that Transfiguration and Charms would likely be very useful against such foes, but that wasn't the answer his professor wanted. Instead he shook his head, and did his best not to think of actually having to fight a Nundu one on one. That was a death sentence, not a challenge.

“You will need to use powerful curses to kill or hold off such creatures, Mr. Potter, and I am, of course, forgetting the most dangerous challenge in the tournament, the other contestants. Regardless of what history might say, this tournament does not foster good will between our schools. It is a competition, a means to show the world what school is the best. Don't think for a second that your competitors won't do whatever it takes to win.” Romulus extended a piece of parchment to Harry, but did not release it when Harry tried to take it. “This parchment contains dark magic, Mr. Potter. I do not expect you to come back next year fully proficient with all the spells here, but if you truly want to be the Durmstrang champion, you will need to be familiar with at least some of them. You have been hesitant to learn the dark arts in the past, so, I will ask you again, do you want to be the Durmstrang Champion?”

Grim determination ran through Harry's veins. He wanted everyone at Hogwarts to see just how much stronger, smarter, and talented he had become. So, ignoring the slight feeling of discontent at the back of his head, Harry took the list from his professor. “Like I said, sir, I don't want to be the Durmstrang champion, I want to win.”

Romulus watched as his student left the room, a pleased expression on his face.


	14. Summer of Magic Part 1

How I learned to Negotiate  
Godric's Hollow, (May 25th)...

“... and you see, Harry,” James said, looking particularly tired and weary, “I just can't be leaving the country. Not while Peter is still active.”

“I understand. I guess I'll write Viktor and tell him I can't use the tickets,” Harry said. “I don't want to be away if something happe –”

“Wait. Just wait, Harry,” James said quickly. “While your mother and I can't go to the match, we've talked about it, and we've decided that you shouldn't be stuck here thinking about Nathan at Hogwarts. The last thing we want is for you to spend the first few weeks of your holiday worrying.”

“So, I can go alone?” Harry asked curiously. While it would be fun to travel by himself, he didn't think his parents would let him.

“Absolutely not,” Lily said, looking at her son as if he was crazy. “You are far too young to go by yourself.”

“So who will I be going with?”

James smiled, a little life re-entering his eyes. “Sirius will be escorting you.”

As if on cue, Harry's godfather entered the living room with a slightly forced smile on his face. It was the sight of Sirius, not quite his typical self that made Harry realize just how much the situation with Peter was affecting his family.

“Did someone say my name?”

“Sirius,” James said, “don't act like you weren't listening on the other side of the door waiting for us to mention you.”

“Was not,” Sirius muttered unconvincingly.

Lily looked sternly at Sirius. “You remember those rules that we talked about, right?”

“Of course. Don't worry, Lily. Harry and I are going to have a blast. Won't we, Harry? Me, you, and a player box in Paris! I can't believe the Viktor you told us about all these years is the Viktor Krum. Merlin kiddo, when you make a friend, you make a friend!” Sirius slung an arm on Harry's shoulder and grinned down at his godson. “I was just telling Andromeda about it, boy was she shocked. Oh, that reminds me, Nymphadora absolutely begged me to ask you for Viktor's autograph. I think she was half torn whether she should blow off her morning lessons at the Academy today to come ask you herself.”

Harry laughed, the earlier tension about Peter quickly lessening. The thought of asking Viktor for his autograph just seemed... bizarre to him. Viktor was his friend, who just happened to play Quidditch. To everyone else though, he was Viktor Krum, Quidditch God. “I'll see what I can do, but no promises, Sirius.”

“Come on, Harry. The poor girl is going through Auror training. I hear old Mad-Eye Moody is her trainer, the girl needs a break.”

“I suppose I can get her an autograph,” Harry said, “but what's in it for me?”

Sirius barked out a laugh. “Lily, James please excuse us while I try to bribe my own godson for his best friend's autograph.”

Lily and James kissed Harry's cheeks and made sure to give him an especially long welcome back hug before leaving Sirius and Harry alone in the living room to discuss their trip.

Once they were alone, Sirius motioned for Harry to be silent as he cast some privacy and silencing spells. When he was done, he smirked proudly at his godson. “Now, your mum ordered me not to, but I figure if you're old enough to befriend a Quidditch star, you're old enough to drink. So, how about I let you have your first ever taste of Firewhiskey on this trip in exchange for that autograph?”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“Come on, Harry, don't keep me in suspense. What do you say?”

“I think you would probably let me take a drink of Firewhiskey regardless,” Harry said knowingly. “You are, after all, the best godfather ever.”

Sirius shook his head ruefully. “That is so very true. Hmm, well what do you want?”

Looking at nervously at the door where his parents had just left, Harry took out his wand and cast Muffliato.

“Wow, been a long time since I've seen anyone cast that spell,” Sirius said, looking at his godson curiously. “Snivellus teach you something besides Occlumency, Harry?”

“Professor Snape?” Harry asked in confusion. “No, why?”

“Then where did you learn one of his spells? Not a lot of people know of those, and Snivellus was a greedy little bastard about 'his' spells after your dad and I snatched one of his books back in the day.”

“Professor Snape invented the Muffliato spell?” Harry asked, sounding impressed. “I didn't know that. An older student at Durmstrang showed it to me during my second year.”

“Huh, small world. Well, what's up Harry?” Sirius asked. “What's so important that you need to use Snape's privacy charm on top of my silencing spell?”

“Sirius, I want your help with the Animagus transformation, I've –”

“No,” Sirius said immediately. “Absolutely not, Harry. We've talked about this before, and that is very advanced and dangerous magic. I'm not going to be teaching you any of –”

“I've already found my form,” Harry blurted out, causing Sirius to stop and look incredulously at his godson.

“What?”

“I already found my form, Uncle Sirius. A few friends and I started learning to become an animagus during my second year. I found my form this year, and I'm ready to start learning how to transform.”

“Harry,” Sirius snapped angrily, “do you have any idea how stupid that was! Did you even think of the consequences?”

“Yes, that's why we learned it together,” Harry protested. “Just like you and dad did. That way if any of us got into trouble we could help each other.”

Looking intently at Harry, Sirius said, “Do not lie to me, Harry. Have you really found your form? This is not something you should joke around about. Be honest.”

“I've found my form.” Harry made sure he never broke eye contact with his uncle to convey the truth in his words.

“Unbelievable,” Sirius muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “You're not even fourteen.”

“And I am about to enter my sixth year in Transfiguration,” Harry reminded his uncle. “I actually think I'm behind you and Dad. You both had finished the transformation by your fifth year.”

Sirius sat down and looked wearily up at his godson. “I had hoped that you were more intelligent than us, Harry. Your dad and I, we made so many mistakes. We were so stupid when we were young.” Sirius trailed off uncomfortably before looking back at his godson. “What is your form?”

Harry smiled. He knew that this would convince his uncle. “I guess you've been a bit too much of an influence on me because I'm a dog. A Doberman to be exact.”

“Really?” The first hint of a smile began to form on Sirius' face. “So, another mutt in the family, huh?”

“I'm going to practice it, uncle Sirius,” Harry said unflinchingly. “With or without your help.”

“If we do this, you will do everything I say, and you will not practice when I'm not there, understood?” Sirius said, a little annoyed at being backed into a corner.

“Do you think we could practice at your house?” Harry asked, a plan starting to form in the back of his mind. “I want to surprise Dad and Mum at some point by fully transforming.”

Sirius laughed at the thought of Lily and James' faces when that happened. “Your parents are both going to kill me, but I think a few lessons at my place could be arranged . It should be easy to explain you coming over now since we have to coordinate our plans for the World Cup. We'll work something out for the rest of the summer later.”

“Thanks Uncle Sirius.” Harry beamed. “You're the best.”

ooo0000ooo

  
Meet the Godfather  
Paris, (June 6th)...

Easily landing on the ground, Harry laughed when he saw his uncle lose his balance and fall. Compared to the trip to Durmstrang, the international Portkey that took Harry and Sirius to France seemed like nothing.

“Shut up,” Sirius grumbled. “Just because you're used to Portkeys that take you to Siberia doesn't mean that the rest of us are accustomed to international travel.”

“Durmstrang is not in Siberia,” Harry said. “I was just kidding when I told Nathan that.”

“Do you really expect me to believe you?” Sirius asked incredulously. “That kind of disinformation is too perfect! I bet Durmstrang told you to tell your family exactly where the school is located, knowing that we thought you couldn't say where it was. It's the perfect cover! Besides, my mother wanted to send me there, and dear old Mum was a bitch to her very core. There is no way she'd send me to Durmstrang unless it was in one of the most hellish places on earth. Therefore, it must be in Siberia.”

Harry was prepared to point out exactly how insane Sirius' logic sounded when he caught a glimpse of the stadium. The massive structure stood several hundred feet above the tree line, and Harry could see several tent villages that had been set up by fans who would be spending the night.

Located in the heart of the Bois de Boulogne, Harry was amazed at the quality of Muggle-repelling wards placed around the stadium. Standing from a vantage point on the hill, Harry could actually see some Muggles at the edge of the ward look disoriented and then quickly turn around and head off in a different direction. Clearly the French Ministry was upset about losing out to England for this year's World Cup, and they were doing their best to point out to the examining board just how much they deserve to host the world cup of 2002.

As Harry and Sirius got closer to the stadium, Harry could see that the outer walls seemed to be constructed out of pristine marble. Passing the main gates, Harry and Sirius showed their tickets to the nearest usher, who quickly summoned a house elf to show them to their seats.

“This be your box, sirs,” the elf said after leading Harry and Sirius up a very long winding staircase. “Should you be needing anything at all, please call for Nilly, and she be getting you what you need.”

When the elf popped away, presumably to help someone else, Harry pushed open the door to the box suite. He spotted Kira standing in the far right corner, and the two of them exchanged a dark look.

“Don't talk to me, and we won't have problems,” Kira spat in German.

Smiling brightly, Harry replied, “Nice to see you too.”

Noticing a large buffet table on the other side of the room from Kira, Harry immediately walked over and started making himself a sandwich.

“You know,” Sirius said, following Harry over to the buffet table and placing some food on his plate, “German really does sound like an angry language. I don't know how you can stand to speak it all the time at Durmstrang. I could have sworn that girl wanted to curse you there for a second.”

“You get used to it,” Harry replied, ignoring the fact that Kira was, in fact, not happy to see him.

“So,” Sirius smirked, “got any inside information on this match? Your mum told me about your little gambling thing a few years back. You still betting?”

“No, I told her I'd stop, and I did,” Harry said honestly. “If you want an inside tip, just bet on Viktor to catch the snitch. He always does.”

The sound of the door opening caught Harry's attention, and he turned around in time to see Calypso hesitantly walk into the box. Harry could feel his heartbeat quicken. Knowing that his godfather was standing next to him, Harry cleared his mind and did his best to remain calm.

Calypso seemed to have no intention of ignoring Harry, and she walked over, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Hello, Harry,” she said in German before glancing at Sirius curiously. “I expected your father to look more like you to be honest.”

“My dad couldn't make it,” Harry explained before quickly switching languages and turning to Sirius. “Uncle Sirius, this is my friend Calypso.”

Sirius grinned down at the girl. “Nice to meet you, Calypso.”

“Do you speak German, Mr. Black?” Calypso asked curiously.

Looking back at his godson, Sirius asked, “What did she say?”

“She asked if you speak German.” Turning to Calypso, Harry asked, “Do you mind if we speak English?”

“I think not.” Calypso's eyes sparked with mirth before she said, “You don't have the slightest idea what I am saying to you, Mr. Black? I could call you an ignorant piece of ashwinder piss and as long as I smile pleasantly at you, you wouldn't have a clue.”

Harry's eyes widened and he fought down the urge to laugh.

Seeing his godson's expression, Sirius quickly looked for an explanation. “Harry, what did she say?”

“She said it's nice to meet you,” Harry quickly lied, trying not to laugh.

Smiling, Calypso took a step closer to Harry and kissed him.

At the back of his mind, Harry briefly registered Sirius' gasp of surprise before he let his emotions take over. Eventually, they separated and Harry turned towards his gaping Godfather.

“But, I, she, how? When?” Sirius sputtered. “Harry, you have a girlfriend!”

Unable to keep the smile off his face, Harry replied, “I know I do.”

“How long have you had a girlfriend?” Sirius demanded, a huge grin making its way across his face. “And why didn't you tell us? Come on kiddo, give me all the details. Does she speak English?”

Calypso just stared at Sirius with a deceptively blank look on her face.

“Okay, so she doesn't speak English,” Sirius stated. “How long have you been dating? Who is she?”

“Yes, Harry,” Calypso said, placing her arms around him. “I can't possibly understand what you and your godfather are talking about.”

Sirius grinned at Calypso's actions and watched his godson's face heat up in embarrassment at something the girl said. “You little dog, Harry! It seems like your animagus form isn't the only thing you take after yours truly!”

Calypso immediately stopped smiling and she looked sharply up at her boyfriend. “He knows you're trying to become an animagus?”

“Yes, he's been helping me learn how to transform,” Harry whispered, doing his best to keep their conversation from Kira. The angry girl had turned sharply at the word and was openly glaring at Harry, Sirius, and Calypso. Harry simply rolled his eyes and did his best to ignore her. Kira had only grown more insufferable since he had found his form, and he had absolutely no intention of helping her anymore. Even Viktor admitted his girlfriend's attitude was starting to grate.

“Have you been able to transform yet?” Calypso asked interestedly. “I still haven't been able to find my form.”

“Don't worry, you'll find it, we know you have one,” Harry said confidently. “And no, I haven't been able to transform. I've made some progress, and maybe if it was the only thing I was working on this summer, I could do it, but I can't dedicate all my time to the transformation.”

“What else are you working on?”

Watching the byplay between his godson and his girlfriend, Sirius barked out a laugh before going over to the buffet table and making himself something to eat.

“A little of this, and a little of that. Something tells me I'm not the only one who's preparing for the Tri-Wizard, Calypso. You honestly don't expect me to tell you what I've got up my sleeve, do you?”

“And here I was wondering if the Harry Potter I remembered at the end of the term had gone soft again after returning to England,” Calypso said approvingly. “Surely, you could tell me something though?”

“I'm going to win that tournament, Calypso.” Harry's voice had grown hard, colder. “No offense, but until we figure out who's the Durmstrang champion, we're all competing against each other.”

Calypso nodded. “Fair enough. How about an exchange. I'll tell you what I'm working towards for advanced Dark Arts, and you can tell me what advanced Transfiguration and Charms you're working on?”

The memory of a much younger Calypso asking him something very similar during his first year at Durmstrang popped into Harry's head. “I don't know, Calypso, I'm working on advanced Charms and Transfiguration,” Harry said, omitting the fact that Romulus had already given him a list of spells to practice. “Technically, I only need to tell you about one for an even trade. So what will it be, Charms or Transfiguration?”

Instantly recognizing the conversation, Calypso's eyes gleamed. “I'm sure we can think of some kind of arrangement later, but let's start with Charms. I'm better at that than Transfiguration, and I heard you had a long meeting with Professor Kosarev before you left on the 25th. What exactly did you two talk about?”

Harry smiled and moved closer to Calypso, ensuring that only she could hear him. “We mostly discussed the Tri-Wizard and what spells I should spend the most time practicing. Professor Kosarev suggested I spend most my time on area-effect spells as well as illusions. He also hinted that he might be willing to work with me on some basic warding at the start of the new year.”

“Warding and area effect spells could definitely be useful,” Calypso said thoughtfully, “though I'm not sure how good an illusion will be.”

Harry shook his head. “I don't know. An illusion can be very useful. I've already mastered the disillusionment charm, and I'm working on some static and minor active projection spells, but they're pretty tricky and hard to cast.”

“I suppose they would make decent distractions,” Calypso said begrudgingly admitting the point. “What area-effect spells have you worked on?”

Glancing over at his uncle, who was simply watching Harry and Calypso interact with a smirk on his face, Harry said, “Just starting with some of the basics like Meteolojinx right now, but I'm hoping to move onto the more advanced stuff fairly soon. I think my mother is starting to wonder about the odd weather around the house of late. Enough about me though, what are you doing for Dark Arts?”

“My father made me a list of spells to learn for the Triwizard Tournament. I might be willing to trade it to you in exchange for a copy of your Charms list. That way if either of us becomes the champion we'll be prepared.”

“Not to intrude.” Sirius interrupted pointing to the pitch, “but I think the match is about to start.”

Nodding, the two teens followed Sirius to the front of the box, Harry was impressed at the sight of nearly sixty thousands cheering witches and wizards. Feeling someone tapping on his shoulder, Harry looked up to see Sirius smirking at him. “Have you ever seen a Veela before, Harry?”

Harry was about to reply that he hadn't when something caught his attention from the corner of eye. He turned to see a group of stunningly beautiful women beginning to twirl and dance.

The second Harry felt the softest, subtle, feeling of magic reach out and touch his mind, an icy expression crossed his face. Without a second thought, Harry cleared his mind and narrowed his eyes at the dancing Veela. Forcing himself to remain calm and not reach for his wand, Harry glanced around the stadium at the various wizards that were cheering maniacally.

“Disgusting,” he spat viciously.

Sirius turned to his godson in shock. “What? The Veela?”

“No. Well, they are annoying creatures, though I suppose they can't help the effect they have on people. I'm just not particularly fond of anyone that tries to manipulate my mind,” Harry said darkly, not noticing how Sirius and Calypso were now both watching him with varying degrees of concern. Harry swept his arm across his body, and gestured at horde of crazed fans around the stadium. “Just look at all the people that are enthralled by them. The Veela dance and all those wizards just let their minds be affected. They're pathetic.”

Calypso reached out and took Harry's hand while Sirius looked at his godson in disbelief.

“It's harmless fun, Harry. The Veela compulsion isn't really that serio–”

“It doesn't matter.” Harry took a deep breath and, again, cleared his mind of all emotion. “I don't want anyone entering my mind. The fact that these people let it happen proves just how stupid they really are.”

Sirius continued to look at his godson in concern. He was about to ask if everything was alright when Harry quickly drew his wand and fired off a stinging hex, hitting him in the chest.

“Oi!” Sirius snapped, rubbing his chest irritably. “What was that for?”

Harry stared blankly at his godfather before he let a smile cross his face. “You tried to get me enthralled by a Veela, knowing that my girlfriend was next to me. That's for trying to get me into trouble with Calypso.”

“Your dad was the same way,” Sirius muttered distastefully. “Embarrass him in front of your mum, and he'd spend a month sending hexes at me.”

“So that explains it,” Calypso muttered, causing Harry to look back at her. Calypso was staring out at the field where the Bulgarian national team was awaiting their introduction near the group of Veela.

“Explains what?”

“The presence of Veela would explain Viktor's rapid ability to detect when I'm using Legilimency on him.”

“Huh?” Harry asked in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Last term Krum was consistently able to break eye contact with me whenever I tried to use Legilimency on him,” Calypso said. “I was wondering how he got so intuitive so quickly, but if he's around those Veela a lot, then he's probably just gotten used to identifying when there is a foreign presence trying to affect his mind. Who would have thought playing Quidditch could actually be useful for something.”

“Is that why you've been, well, nicer to him of late?” Harry asked curiously. “I noticed that you two seemed to be getting along better as the term progressed.”

“Father pointed out just how much Krum has improved academically of late – of course having every teacher in the school practically jumping at the chance to give him private lessons certainly helps.”

“He's actually been improving for a while,” Harry felt the need to point out. “He's been one of the best in Dark Arts since October, and while he's still not amazing, his Transfiguration and Charms work has improved a great deal this year.”

“And to think, it only took him six years to realize that learning was important,” Calypso said dryly. “What an achievement.”

Harry laughed as the Bulgarian and Peruvian teams flew onto the pitch, causing the stadium to cheer wildly. Harry tried not to gape at Viktor's incredible aerobatics, but he had to admit that it was impressive. Turning back to Calypso, who seemed somewhat bored by the match, Harry asked, “So, what are you working on this summer to prepare for the tournament?”

“A little of this, and a little of that Harry,” Calypso replied with a grin. “Don't think that I'm just going to tell you everything I'm working on when you're not willing to share. I know that you have to be doing something more impressive than practicing a few illusions and a basic area effect spell.”

“Did you know that your father gave me a list of spells to learn for the tournament?” Harry asked curiously.

“No, I didn't. What was on it?”

“Dark Magic.”

Calypso rolled her eyes. “Such as?”

“Nasty stuff Calypso. I expected him to give me a list of curses, but it was so much more than that. He put some really horrible enchantments on the list, as well as...” Harry hesitated before adding, “as well as the spells to create an earth elemental.”

“I don't believe it,” Calypso said a little bitterly. “He gave you those spells when he wouldn't tell me? Are you going to try to learn how to create them?”

“Some of it has aspects of the transfiguration magic Rosemburg gave me to look at, so...I don't know. I might be able to do it.”

“But will you?” Calypso asked again. “Harry, you do know why ritual magic like that is frowned upon, right?”

“Of course I do.” Harry glanced nervously up at his godfather, who seemed to be excitedly watching the match, and not paying them much attention. “It's not like I'm that interested in taking the magic that far, but it's really interesting. The spells are so incredibly complex, and they intermix so much of Transfiguration and Charms.”

“And the Dark Arts.” Calypso was more than a little pleased to see that Harry simply nodded, conceding the point. “You have to keep this to yourself, Harry,” she warned before quickly adding, “I'll help you of course. I think it's just as fascinating, but you know what people will say if they find out you're casting that kind of magic.”

“I know. Believe me, I know. A part of me just wants to ignore it and work on other stuff....”

“But you can't.” Calypso nodded in understanding. “The magic is just too interesting. I understand, Harry. I've thought about quitting one of my longer term projects as well, but I just can't bring myself to do it either.”

“Really?” Harry asked. “What project?”

Calypso looked over at Kira, and then glanced up at Harry's godfather before leaning in to whisper a single word in Harry's ear. “Fiendfyre.”

It took Harry a second to process what Calypso had said, but when he did, he looked at her in horror. “Are you mad!?”

Narrowing her eyes, Calypso said, “I'm perfectly sane, Potter, and my father is helping me every step of the way. Besides, I'm still a long way away from actually casting the spell.”

“But it can't be controlled,” Harry whispered frantically. “You're going to end up killing yourself!”

“That's not true,” Calypso said seriously, “It can be controlled, it's just incredibly difficult to do so. Only people with a strong connection to their magic and incredible mental control can tame the fire. And I know it's possible since I've seen my father manage it.”

It was now Harry's turn to appear shocked. “He can control it?”

“Not for long,” Calypso qualified, “but for maybe a minute or so. He's always able to tell when he's about to lose control, and he can end the spell before the fire turns on him. He let me watch at the start of the summer, Harry. The fire is... it's simply amazing. It can burn anything, even water, and you can literally feel the magic in the air when it's around.”

Harry shook his head in amazement, but he still looked worried. “Please tell me you're taking some precautions?”

“Have you ever heard of Aqua Eructo?” Calypso asked. “It's a spell that summons a great deal of water, but it's somewhat similar to Fiendfyre. Very difficult to control and maintain. Apparently it's easy to knock yourself unconscious and drown if you can't manage it properly.”

“Yeah, I know of it,” Harry said, recalling that the spell was one of the more ambitious charms Professor Kosarev said he should try to learn for the tournament. He doubted very much that Calypso would be able to cast it, but maybe he was underestimating her. Regardless, he decided to give the spell a try when he got home at some point.

“Well my father says if you lose control of Fiendfyre, that's probably the only spell that can buy you some time to escape, but even that won't last long,” Calypso explained. “Still, father is having me learn Aqua Eructo first, just in case I lose control. I've tried it a few times, but I haven't had much luck so far.”

The sound of people cheering wildly brought Harry and Calypso's attention back to the match. They saw Viktor pull out of an insanely steep dive, just feet from the ground. In his hand, the golden snitch was clutched tightly. The referee's whistle sounded a half a second later, ending the match. Glancing up at the score board, Harry was a little surprised to see that the match had been going on for almost half an hour.

“Oh Merlin, that was incredible!” Sirius shouted, looking at Harry with a massive smile on his face. “He caught that thing going full speed and not ten feet from the ground! How did he manage to avoid smashing face first into the pitch?”

Harry simply smiled. “I told you he would catch the snitch, Sirius.”

As Sirius watched the replay of Viktor's catch, Harry turned to Calypso. “I guess I won't get to see you till we get back to Durmstrang. Let me know about your progress, and I'll write you about mine, okay?”

“Something tells me that we'll see each other before Durmstrang, Harry. After all, Viktor needs to get us some tickets to the final, especially since it's in England.”

Harry's smile was somewhat forced as he nodded his head and gave Calypso a goodbye hug and kiss. He wasn't sure how his parents would take meeting Calypso, but he hoped it would all work out.

ooo0000ooo

  
A Dark Tide Rising  
Paris, June 7th…

“Harry, you need to wake up,” Sirius said, roughly shaking him awake.

Slowly, Harry opened one of his eyes and fought the urge to hit his godfather. “Go away,” he muttered, closing his eyes and pulling the sheets over his head.

With a sigh, Sirius said, “No, we need to go Harry, please get up.”

After the Qudditch match had ended, Sirius had immediately taken Harry back to their tent to celebrate Bulgaria's victory. His godfather spent most the night praising Viktor's talent while mercilessly demanding details about his godson's girlfriend. All the while regaling Harry with stories about his numerous girlfriends at Hogwarts. At some point, Sirius had pulled out a large bottle of Ogden's finest Firewhiskey, and began pouring shots.

From that point on, the night was mostly a blur for Harry. He vaguely remembered Viktor stopping by their tent to personally sign a jersey for Nymphadora, and Sirius all but demanded that the Quidditch super-star stay for a drink, but everything else was... gone.

Just thinking about the burning liquid made Harry's stomach turn, and he pressed a pillow over his head to further block out the light in the room. Feeling more sick than he had in his entire life, Harry heard Sirius again tell him to get out of bed. In that instant, Harry decided he hated Sirius. He couldn't remember half the night, but he felt like he had just gotten to bed an hour ago. His entire body felt tired and his head was pounding.

Losing patience with his godson, Sirius vanished the pillows and sheets before dropped some clothes onto his godson's bed. “Get dressed Harry. Our Portkey leaves in ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes,” Harry groaned as he opened one of his eyes and slowly got out of bed to put on his clothes. When he was fully dressed, Harry casually sent a pack spell at his trunk before leaving his room. He found his godfather quickly walking about their magically expanded tent, casting spells to pack various items and pieces of clothing.

“All set Harry?” Sirius asked the moment he saw his godson enter the room.

“No, it's too early,” Harry said bitterly, “and I thought we were going to stay in Paris for breakfast?”

“First of all, it's half past eleven Harry,” Sirius commented distractedly as he quickly went about summoning various items and sending them into his open trunk, “and your mum and dad called this morning. They want us to head back, so we'll grab some food back in England.”

“Why?” Harry asked tiredly. “They seemed fine with us coming back a day late when we left.”

“Things change, Harry,” Sirius said evasively. “Are you ready to get going?”

“I guess. I was hoping to see some of Paris though,” Harry said, his head aching with every step he took.

“Sorry Harry. I promise to take you another time,” Sirius said as he reached into his pocket to remove the small dishtowel Portkey that they had taken to France. Together, the two walked outside and Harry watched his uncle casually shrink the magically expanded tent until it was pocket sized. Extending the Portkey to Harry, Sirius said, “Don't worry, everything is going to be okay.”

The odd comment caused Harry to look at his godfather in confusion, and, for the first time, he realized just how ragged Sirius really appeared. His godfather looked like he had aged an entire year in a night. He had bags under his eyes, and a haunted look on his face. Abruptly, Harry realized that something was wrong, but before he could ask, Sirius said, “Lemon Sorbet,” activating the Portkey.

Harry had taken international Portkeys before. He had even traveled much further distances than from Paris to Godric's Hollow; however, he had never taken a Portkey after drinking. The sudden jerk of the Portkey activation combined with the spinning was simply horrible. The moment the Portkey landed, ending the nauseating trip, Harry fell to the floor of his living room, his entire body shaking.

“Harry!” Lily shouted in horror, seeing her son collapse. Fearing the worst, she raced over to him only to stop when Harry suddenly leaned over and emptied the contents of his stomach all over the living room floor.

Extremely lightheaded but feeling significantly better, Harry wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his robe before hesitantly standing up. Turning around, Harry saw both his parents and professor Dumbledore were standing not a few feet from him. He was about to say something when he suddenly felt his stomach twist in an uncomfortable fashion. Bringing his hand to his mouth, Harry took two steps towards the bathroom before a conjured bowl appeared directly in front of him. Without hesitating, Harry vomited in the bowl and sagged to his knees in relief.

His relief was short lived when he looked up and saw his mother staring at him. She took one look at his appearance before angrily saying, “James, go get a hangover cure for Harry.”

“Could you get two mate?” Sirius asked hopefully, leaning precariously against the door.

“No he cannot,” Lily snapped, turning to glare at Sirius.

“Lily,” Dumbledore interjected, “I believe we will want everyone at their best for this discussion.”

“Fine,” she said before turning to Sirius, a look of rage on her face, “but we will talk about this later Sirius Black.”

Nodding his head in acceptance, Sirius took a seat on the couch and a moment later James returned with two yellow potions. Harry brought the potion to his lips and immediately swallowed it in one gulp. The potion seemed to immediately hit his stomach, and Harry began to feel incredibly light headed. Shaking his head a few times, the feeling eventually passed, and he realized that his head no longer felt like he had been trampled by a herd of Hippogriffs.

“Um, thank you,” Harry said sheepishly.

“Harry why don't you take a seat,” Dumbledore said, conjuring a very comfortable straight back chair with his wand.

Remembering Sirius' cryptic statement of everything being alright, Harry nervously took a seat. He looked at his parents in confusion, noticing that, like Sirius, they had bags under their eyes and appeared very tired.

“Harry,” James said in a strained voice, “last night your brother and Ron were out late playing on the Quidditch pitch... Peter was there.”

Harry felt his heart stop and, for a moment, he forgot to breathe as he envisioned his brother being cursed off his broom by a murderous madman. Instinctively, he reached into his robes and drew out his wand, which emitted a few purple sparks. A thousand horrible scenarios were racing across his mind. If anything happened to his brother, he'd kill Pettegrew.

Shaking his head, Harry cleared his mind and did his best to calm down. He never noticed Dumbledore's look at him in concern before he too began utilizing Occlumency.

“We were very lucky, Harry. Peter didn't have a wand, so he was stuck waiting for Nathan and Ron to land. Fortunately, your uncle Remus had literally just stumbled into Fred and George Weasley planning a prank.” James hesitated before bitterly saying. “They were using the Marauders' Map.”

“What's the Marauders' map?” Harry asked, looking at his father in confusion.

“It was a map of the castle that we created when we were in school,” Sirius said, beginning to look just a depressed as his best friend. “It shows everything and everyone inside of Hogwarts, and the immediate grounds. It doesn't matter if the person is invisible, disguised... or transformed. The map tells exactly who and where you are at all times.”

Harry looked between his father and godfather in utter astonishment. Shaking his head in denial, Harry wanted to scream that they were lying. That if such a map existed, and his family knew about, they would surely have used it. It would be idiotic, asinine even, not to use such an advantage. As Harry continued to stare at the seemingly broken visage of his father and godfather, horrid realization began to creep into his mind.

They were serious.

“Why?” Harry asked with dawning horror. “Why didn't you tell anyone about it? Why didn't you use it before?”

“We thought it was destroyed,” James said somberly. “Filch confiscated it from us during our seventh year. He was fairly new at Hogwarts back then, and he had a reputation for just outright destroying banned items.”

“But you could have made another one,” Harry protested. “We could hav–”

Sirius shook his head. “No, Harry. It's not that simple. The map, it was an accident. I was just messing around with a piece of parchment, trying to get it to swear at people using our nicknames. Remus was practicing the Protean Charm next to me, and your father thought he was working too hard. He jokingly hit Peter,” Sirius' expression darkened at the traitor's name, “with a tripping jinx who crashed into Remus. Remus ended up sending his spell right at the parchment I was enchanting, and the two spells somehow ended up creating the map.”

“We tried to duplicate the effect over the years,” James said. “We could never get it to work.”

Reaching over, Lily took her husband's hand and gave it a squeeze. “When your father first showed the map to me, Harry, I thought it was brilliant. I tried creating a similar one, but it didn't work. The map was a completely unique magical artifact.”

Harry couldn't believe it. Turning to Professor Dumbledore, Harry said, “Sir, surely you could manage to make one, right?”

Dumbledore nodded. “I believe I have an idea what happened, Harry, and I might, given my position as Headmaster, be able to create a similar map of Hogwarts. Unfortunately, I was not aware that such thing was possible, and in the years that have passed since the map was confiscated and thought destroyed, I dare say your family forgot about it.”

“How do you forget about a one of a kind magical artifact?” Harry demanded.

“Harry,” Dumbledore said sharply, his icy blue eyes radiating a calmness and power that Harry had rarely seen from his grandfather. “I assure you that I discussed at length the error your father and his friends made by not informing me about the map. They are all painfully aware of what their actions have cost us, you need not increase their burden anymore than it already is.”

Realizing that Dumbledore was right, Harry nodded his head. Muttering a quick apology to his parents and Sirius, Harry asked, “Did you catch Peter? Now that you have the map?”

“Unfortunately, we did not,” Dumbledore said. “As soon as your uncle saw Peter's name, he immediately went out to warn your brother and Ron. They flew inside, and Remus was able to use the map to track Peter throughout the grounds. By the time Remus was able to force Peter out of his animagus form, they had cleared the anti-disapparation wards and Peter escaped.”

“But what about Peter?” Harry asked. “Is there a plan to catch him using the map?”

“Peter saw the map, Harry,” James said, his tone regretful. “He told Remus that one day we wouldn't see him coming on it.”

“Fortunately, now that he is aware of the map, I doubt very much that Peter will make an attempt on Nathan's life at Hogwarts,” Dumbledore said strongly. “I have managed to charm the map to immediately alert me if it detects Peter's presence, and it appears that he has left the immediate area. Rest assured that I will remain vigilant, and I will do everything I can to catch him.”

“Thank you, sir.” Harry said, feeling emotionally drained.

“Harry,” Lily said softly. “Why don't you go get some sleep. You look exhausted.”

Not willing to argue, Harry hugged each of his family members before excusing himself to go to bed. As he climbed up the stairs, he couldn’t help think about how Nathan was still in trouble. While they could see Peter coming at Hogwarts now, that didn't mean his brother was completely safe.

Reaching his bedroom, Harry pushed the door open and stepped inside, a look of determination on his face. If Peter tried attacking his brother here at home or at platform 9 ¾, Harry would show him just how much he improved as a duelist this year.

Summoning the spell list Professor Rosier had given him at the end of the year, Harry took out a quill and began marking the spells that he needed to practice sooner rather than later.

ooo0000ooo

  
Failure Is Not An Option  
Godric's Hollow, June 27th

“Tempus.”

After a glance at the time, Harry dismissed the spell with a flick of his wand. It was early, just past one in the morning, and, hopefully, everyone in the house would be asleep by now. Quickly getting dressed, Harry pushed open his bedroom door and stepped into his own personal hallway. Having spent enough time in Grindelwald's room at Durmstrang, Harry had managed to imitate Grindelwald's method of adding additional rooms, inserting hallways, and vaulting the ceilings. Glancing upwards, Harry felt a great deal of pride as he looked into the night sky overhead, curtesy of his skylight charm. Reaching his room's exit into the rest of the house, Harry placed a silencing charm on both the door and his own feet before cracking the door open to look across the hall.

Noticing that Nathan's door was open, he carefully closed his own door before tapping his wand against his head. Shivering slightly at the feeling of water running down his spine, Harry glanced at a nearby mirror to confirm that the disillusionment charm had taken affect.

Satisfied with the charm, Harry reopened the door and stepped out into the hallway. Carefully, he walked past his sleeping brother and the guest bedroom.

Reaching the stairs, Harry pointed his wand at the steps and silently cast Duro. The steps immediately stiffened and turned to stone, allowing him to walk on them without worrying about his weight causing the wood to make a noise. Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, Harry transfigured the steps back to wood before walking through the kitchen and out the back door.

Rain poured down and lightening flashed across the sky. It was a terrible night to go outside, but Harry simply stepped out into the storm, a water repelling charm keeping him dry. Walking to the center of his family's small Quidditch pitch, Harry steadied himself for the magic he was about to cast. Taking a deep breath, he carefully waved his wand in a circle above his head before quickly pointing it at the ground and saying, “Aqua Eructo!”

For a moment, an unnatural silence spread across the property. The sound of rain hitting the earth stopped, thunder could no longer be heard in the distance, and the wind had ceased making any noise what-so-ever. Soon, the silence was replaced by the sound of rushing water, which seemed to grow more pronounced with every beat of Harry's heart. The sound grew louder and louder until Harry felt like he was standing in the middle of a hurricane. He grit his teeth as a powerful gust of wind blew his cloak off, and water exploded from the tip of his wand.

Feeling an unnatural resistance, Harry had to use his other hand to help stabilize his wand arm. As the water continued to fly from his wand, Harry quickly found himself becoming encircled by the rising flood. For a single moment, Harry couldn't help but stare in awe at the sheer majesty of the magic he had called upon.

However, as soon as his attention had diverted from the spell, the water suddenly stopped flowing out of his wand and immediately surged inward. Steadying himself, Harry jabbed his wand forward to meet the oncoming torrent of water. His wand tip began to glow a bright blue as he did his best to stop the flood from engulfing him. Sweat fell from Harry's forehead and his arm began to shake uncontrollably from the strain of holding back the powerful magic.

Letting out a scream of frustration, Harry felt his arm begin to buckle as the water inched closer and closer towards him. Realizing that holding the water back was futile, Harry turned his wand towards his own head and shouted an incantation a mere second before the water crashed into him, momentarily dazing him and throwing his body like a rag doll.

Eventually, Harry managed to reorient himself as the raging block of magical water thrashed around him. With only the bubble-head charm keeping him from drowning, he brought his wand across his body in an arc, canceling the powerful magic he had called forth. Harry could sense the change in the water almost instantly. There was a sudden stillness before the water began to twist and turn in a very tight downward spiral. With a blast of wind, the water rushed into the ground and vanished, leaving a panting, exhausted, and drenched Harry Potter in the center of the Quidditch pitch.

Rain hit his back as Harry slammed his fist into the soaked earth. He hadn't managed to successfully control the charm. While he heard the spell was not something to attempt casually, he, rather foolishly, assumed that to mean the spell was difficult to cast. Aqua Eructo, however, proved to be one of those magical paradoxes.

The spell was easily cast, almost ridiculously so, it was controlling the magic that was extremely difficult. Only now did Harry realize how the magic had fought him for control as soon as the spell was cast. He hadn't commanded the water to encircle him, it did that on its own. Had he controlled the spell properly, he should have been able to make the water do anything he wanted. Instead, the spell seemed to have only one goal – to rid him of what little control he had over it.

Walking back to the house, Harry couldn't help but wonder just how long he would have lasted if the spell he had cast would have been Fiendfyre and not Aqua Eructo. Not that he had any intention of ever casting the cursed flame, but it was still a sobering thought. If he couldn't control Aqua Eructo, Fiendfyre would have likely overwhelmed him in moments, if not immediately.

After carefully making his way up to his room, Harry walked into his study. The room was small, perhaps only a hundred square feet. The only furniture was a desk and a small bookshelf. Standing directly in front of the desk, Harry did his best to carefully conjure up a chair. The small, rickety looking chair fell to the ground with a thump, and Harry looked at his poor conjuration in disappointment.

He definitely needed more practice.

Pulling open his desk drawer, Harry took out the letter that accompanied his third year score card.

Dear Mr Potter,

I am pleased to inform you that you have been selected as a member of the Durmstrang delegation to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this fall. As a member of the delegation, you will be one of 40 students eligible to represent Durmstrang in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Please note that students must remain at Hogwarts for part of the Fall and all of the Spring semesters, regardless of their status as champion. Further details regarding the trip will be forthcoming at the start of the fall semester; however, if you wish to not represent Durmstrang, we ask that you inform us as soon as possible.

Congratulations,

Demetri Überzeug  
Assistant to the Highmaster

Harry felt himself grow more determined. He needed to get better. Nothing would stop him from showing everyone at Hogwarts just how talented a wizard he really was.

ooo0000oooo

  
Expanding Horizons  
Black Estate, Cardiff, July 19th

“I think that's enough for today,” Sirius said standing up to stretch a bit. “You're making good progress, Harry.”

“Thanks again for helping me, Sirius.”

Sirius waived off the thanks. “It's no problem, Harry. Glad to help.”

Smirking, Harry couldn't help but appreciate how much Sirius' attitude had changed since they started their once a week animagus lessons. It seemed that as soon as Sirius realized just how far along Harry already was with the transformation, he had lost a lot of of the anxiety about his godson accidentally harming himself.

“Do you know what time it is?” Harry asked.

Glancing at a nearby clock, Sirius said, “Half past noon.”

Harry grimaced. “So Ron's going to be at my place for another half an hour. Just great. I don't suppose I could stay around here for lunch?”

“Well, I don't mind,” Sirius said, “but I'm meeting someone at the Leaky Cauldron. I'm actually running a bit late as it is. There's some left overs from the dinner your mum made a week ago in the ice box. Feel free, you just need to use a re-heating charm.”

“You should just get a house elf, Sirius,” Harry complained good-naturedly.

Sirius scowled. “I can't stand the one I already have, Harry. Little bastard just won't seem to die, and I'm not about to let him go free.”

Harry blinked. This was news to him. “You have a house elf? Really?”

“Yeah, inherited him once my bitch of a mum died,” Sirius bemoaned. “Nasty little bugger. I told him to keep the family's place in London clean.”

“Can you call him?” Harry asked.

“Sure, but be careful around him, Harry.” Sirius warned. “Don't take anything he gives you, and don't eat anything he makes. The thing tried to poison me a few years ago, and he's always looking for loop-holes in my commands. Kreacher!”

There was a sharp 'crack' and an old, cagy looking house elf appeared. He was dressed in what looked like a decaying pillow, and his expression was borderline murderous as he looked at Sirius. “Befallen child of the house of Black calls, Kreacher. What would mistress say. Oh, my poor mistress.”

“Mother's dead, Kreacher. I'm the only Black left,” Sirius snapped. “This is my godson, he wanted to meet you. You are to do anything he tells you, understand? Under no circumstance are you to allow him to be harmed in any way – through your actions or inactions. Understood?”

Kreacher seemed to be thinking very hard to find a way around Sirius' order, but he eventually slumped slightly. “Yes, Master.”

“Good, now, get my cloak, I have to go meet an old friend for lunch.”

Kreacher popped away only to return a second later with a disgusting, maggot infested, cloak for Sirius. “Your cloak, Master.”

Taking one look at the cloak, Sirius vanished it – an angry expression on his face – before banishing Kreacher away from him. “Nasty little thing. Good luck, Harry. I'll talk to you later, okay?”

Still able to smell the foul cloak that Kreacher had brought his godfather, Harry began to see just why Sirius never introduced he and Nathan to his elf. “Sounds good, uncle Sirius. Have a good lunch.”

As Sirius stepped through the floo, Harry turned a wary eye towards Kreacher. The elf had seemingly recovered and was now standing at his side.

“Can Kreacher do anything for the young master?”

Wrinkling his nose, Harry sarcastically said, “Unless you can find me a good book on curses, I think I'll just settle for making myself some food.”

When the elf disappeared, Harry walked into the kitchen to begin preparing some lunch. The sound of a sharp 'crack' next to his ear, caused Harry to spin around, wand drawn.

Seeing that it was only Sirius' elf, Harry snapped, “Don't do that!”

“Kreacher apologizes, young master.” The elf did not look sorry in the slightest. “But here is your book.”

Surprised, Harry instinctively reached out to take the book only remembering what Sirius said not to trust the creature. “Is it cursed in any way? Is there a chance I could injure myself just by reading or touching this book?”

Kreacher seemed slightly surprised at the question, but it quickly disappeared. “No.”

Hesitantly, Harry took the book from Kreacher, giving it a curious glance. There was a title, but the cover was so worn that it was impossible to read. Opening the first page, Harry scanned the table of contents, idly noting that it was a book on dark magic – specifically, dark curses.

“Where did you get this?” Harry found himself asking, noting that several of the spells Professor Rosier had given him were listed in the book.

Once again, Kreacher seemed surprised by the question. “From the library in London.”

“What library in London?” Harry asked sharply, hoping that the crazed elf hadn't stolen someone's book.

“The library of the Ancient and Noble house of Black,” Kreacher replied, puffing his chest out in pride. “Kreacher protects the Black ancestral home.”

Doing his best not to laugh at the elf, Harry said, “Ah, I didn't realize that. So are there more books like this there?”

“Many, sir.”

“If I give you a list of spells my Dark Arts Professor wanted me to learn, could you find some books that describe them?” Harry asked.

Regardless of what Calypso thought, his lack of progress over the summer and winter with the Dark Arts wasn't completely due to his family's stance on the subject. No, it was simply a lack of material to study and learn from. Oh, he had his school books, but it wasn't like he could just go to Knockturn Alley and buy some supplemental Dark Arts books – his parents would freak!

“Kreacher could.” The elf seemed to straighten up and reappraise Harry. “Young Master studies the Dark Arts?”

“I go to Durmstrang,” Harry found himself explaining. “I'm trying to get ready for a magical tournament, and my Dark Arts professor suggested I learn several spells; however, I've had a problem finding information about some of them. Do you have a quill and a piece of parchment, I can give you some of the spells now.”

Kreacher immediately popped away, only to re-appear a few seconds later with the necessary items. Harry couldn't help but notice that, unlike Sirius' cloak, there was nothing wrong with the quill or parchment.

Quickly scribbling out a list of spells that he hadn't been able to cast appropriately – mostly due to a lack of supplemental reading – Harry gave the list to Kreacher, who took one look at it, grinned, and popped away.

When the old elf returned, a half dozen books levitating behind him, Harry couldn't help but smile. Suddenly, he felt an urge to go home and read, but before that he needed to make sure of something.

“Kreacher,” Harry said seriously. “If Sirius asks what we did while he was gone. What are you going to tell him?”

The old elf seemed to think very hard before saying, “Young Master made himself food while Kreacher tended to the Black family library in London.”

“I'll drop these books off with you the next time I'm here. Can you bring me some other books then? I'll take another look at my spell list later tonight to see what I need to practice.”

“Master said Kreacher is to do anything the young Master tells Kreacher, provided that the young Master is in the House of Black.” For the first time, a wrinkled smile appeared on Kreacher face. “Kreacher will do as young Master says.”

Harry grinned. “Brilliant.”

ooo0000ooo

A Memorable Birthday  
Godric's Hollow, July 31st

Opening the door to his room, Harry Potter smiled as he walked down the stairs. He'd had a great birthday so far. The fact that Professor Dumbledore had arrived during lunch to confirm that Peter had been spotted in continental Europe only made it better.

Walking into the living room, Harry sat down next to Sirius as the family waited for the Weasleys and Grangers to arrive.

“Hey Harry,” Sirius greeted. “You finally finished studying?”

Harry nodded. Even though it was his birthday, that didn't mean he didn't want to practice. Professor Dumbledore had been kind enough to answer some questions when he stopped by for lunch, and Harry had done his best to pick his grandfather's brain. The man was considered the world's undisputed master of transfiguration, and he was willing to utilize every advantage he had to become the Durmstrang champion.

“I still don't understand why you actually want to do homework on your birthday,” Nathan said in disbelief.

Grinning slightly, Harry replied, “Oh, I think you'll figure it out eventually.”

“You didn't work on our little project did you?” Sirius whispered intently.

Shaking his head, Harry said, “No, just some transfiguration stuff, don't worry.”

“So, Harry, Nathan, now that you're fourteen years old do you feel any different?” Remus asked. “Had any great leaps of magical power? Maybe the knowledge of Merlin dumped into your head?”

Nathan laughed. “Come on uncle Remus, everyone knows that happens when you turn sixteen.”

Smiling, Lily said, “I still can't believe how grown up they are now. Pretty soon they'll be getting girlfriends.”

“Funny that you should mention girlfriends, Lily.” Sirius grin was reaching epic proportions as he looked at his wide eyed godson. “I was just about to ask Harry here why he didn't invited his girlfriend over for his birthday.”

Burying his face in his hands, Harry mentally cursed Sirius. He had wondered why his godfather never said anything about Calypso after the match. At first he had hoped that Sirius had forgotten with everything that happened, but, after Sirius mentioned Calypso during one of their animagus practices, Harry knew that wasn't true. Apparently, Sirius was just waiting for the best opportunity to embarrass him.

“Harry,” Lily asked, somewhat hesitantly, “is that true? Do you really have a girlfriend?”

Sending a glare at his godfather, Harry could only nod his head.

“Who is she?” James asked, a bright smile crossing his face.

“I've been dating Calypso for a while,” Harry said, not looking at all pleased.

“What's a while?” Remus asked curiously.

“Err, since just before Christmas I guess.”

“Christmas!” Nathan exclaimed. “Why are you just now telling us?”

Harry shrugged.

“Oh come on Harry,” Sirius laughed. “There's no reason for you to be embarrassed.”

“So Harry takes after me then?” James pulled Lily closer to him and placed a kiss on her cheek. “He's dating the prettiest witch at his school?”

“Eh, she's a little cutie alright.” Sirius smirked. “Dark hair, greyish eyes. Most definitely a pureblood or recent halfblood. She's got those high cheekbones that's so common in a lot of the old families.”

“Wait,” Lily said, “how did you find out about her Sirius?”

“I met her in France. She was in Krum's box along with Harry and another girl. Pity she doesn't speak English. I would have loved to tell her embarrassing stories about my godson.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Calypso speaks perfect English, Sirius.”

“What?” Sirius said in confusion. “Then why–.”

“I don't think you realize just how ridiculous you looked trying to convey what you were saying whenever you talked to her.” Harry pointed out.

Sirius seemed to think back to meeting Calypso. He quickly recalled how the girl had taken Harry's hand after his godson was upset with the Veela allure. At the time, Sirius figured she was reading Harry's body language, now though... “Damn it!”

“Well she sounds like a great girl to me.” James laughed. “You should have invited her over. We could have asked Albus to borrow Fawkes to deliver a Portkey.”

“No, it's okay,” Harry said, trying to sound casual. “I'll see her at the world cup final. Viktor is supposed to be sending us some tickets.”

Before anyone could ask any other questions, a slight chime echoed in the house. A moment later there was a whoosh of displaced air and Ron and Hermione crashed into the living room floor.

“Oh there must be an easier way to travel!” Hermione said, clearly frustrated.

Barking out a laugh, Sirius said, “You know, if you don't like local Portkeys, never take an international one. They're much worse.”

Hermione looked slightly embarrassed as she got up. “Happy birthday Nathan.” Quickly rushing over, Hermione gave Nathan a hug before looking over at Harry. “Um, Happy Birthday to you as well, Harry. Thank you for having us over Mr and Mrs Potter.”

“Yeah,” Ron grunted, pulling himself up off the ground. “Thanks.”

“Well, now that everyone's here, who's up for some food?” James asked.

Ron immediately nodded his head and everyone followed James into the kitchen where two identical cakes had fourteen candles spread out across the top.

“What are you going to wish for?” Remus asked the two boys.

“A new broom,” Nathan said, giving his parents a hopeful look. “A Firebolt hopefully.”

Shaking his head, Harry said, “If I tell you want I want, it won't come true.”

Nathan laughed. “Do these things ever come true?”

“This one will,” Harry said emphatically as he looked at the cake in front of him. Taking a deep breath, Harry blew out all the candles, silently wishing to become the Durmstrang champion. As he watched the smoke float away from the cake, he vowed to make his wish come true.

“Come on Harry, what did you wish for?” James prodded.

“I'm not going to say,” Harry said stubbornly.

“Come on, why not?” Sirius asked before his eyes grew wide. “Oh! I get it. You were thinking about your girlfriend!”

“W-what?” Harry spluttered, momentarily stunned. “No, I wasn't thinking of Calypso. I swear.”

“You have a girlfriend?” Ron asked, doing little to hide his surprise.

Glancing at Ron, Harry reached out with Legilimency. Disbelief and confusion were Ron's most prevalent emotions while Hermione seemed to be radiating curiosity. Breaking the connection, Harry said, “Calypso is one of the smartest witches at Durmstrang. She's top of her class in several subjects.”

“Is she in advanced classes as well?” Hermione couldn't help but ask, a slight hint of annoyance in her voice.

“Of course,” Harry said proudly. “She'll be entering her fifth year in Transfiguration and Charms this coming year.”

A loud screech caused everyone to turn their heads sharply. Outside the nearest window, several owls were doing their best to stay in the air as they carried a large parcel. Waving his wand, Harry opened the window.

“You know,” Hermione huffed, “It's not at all fair that you can do magic over the summer just because you go to Durmstrang.”

“Hmm,” Harry said, doing his best to keep a smile off his face. Flicking his wand, he causally levitated a piece of cake onto Hermione's plate, which only seemed to upset her more.

“And you shouldn't abuse the privilege! You should only use magic to study or–”

“That's a broom, it's got to be!” Ron exclaimed, cutting Hermione off. Harry turned around and saw several owls set a long rectangular object down on the nearest counter before they flew off. Nathan immediately jumped out of his seat and tore into the package, exposing the cherry colored Firebolt racing broom inside the box.

“Yes!” Nathan said happily, quickly pulling his parents into a hug. “I can't believe you got me a Firebolt!”

Before James could say anything, a much smaller owl swooped through the open window and dropped a card into Harry's lap. As Nathan continued to thank his parents, Harry opened the card.

Harry,

Happy birthday my friend! I do hope you survived your first experience with Firewhiskey. If you ask nicely, I'll even destroy most of the pictures I have of you stumbling around your tent.

Now, if you can't tell from the packaging, I've sent you a broomstick. Since I know you're probably busy learning spells and curses for the Tri-Wizard Tournament, I just thought I'd give you a project that is more fun than work. I was recently given a tour of the Firebolt company and they let me take one of their brooms, sans enchantments. I'm sure you're capable of casting the magic to make it work, and I thought it might be fun for you to work on your enchanting skills.

I've also attached a couple of books on Charms that I think you'll find useful, both for this project and the Tri-Wizard. I should be sending you some tickets to the final in the next couple of days. My training has already started to intensify for the final, and I'm not sure how much I'll be able to write back, but I hope you have a great birthday!

Your Friend,  
Viktor

“Nathan!” James finally exclaimed. “Your mother and I didn't buy you a Firebolt.”

“It's from Viktor,” Harry announced, causing his brother to turn and look at him in shock. “He thought I might like trying to enchant a broomstick, so he sent me a Firebolt without any of the enchantments cast on it.”

Nathan groaned and dropped his head in disappointment. “I don't believe it.”

“What kind of idiot would buy a Firebolt and take off all the spells?” Ron demanded. “It's the most expensive broom in the world!”

Not at all bothering to hide his glare, Harry snapped, “My friend is not an idiot, and you'd probably be on your knees worshiping the ground he walked on if he was actually here.”

“Please,” Ron scoffed.

“You would, Ron,” Nathan said, clearly disappointed. “Harry's friend is Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker. Remember, I wrote you earlier this summer and told you that Harry and Krum go to Durmstrang together.”

“Y-you were serious?” Ron asked, looking completely bewildered. “Your brother actually knows Viktor Krum?”

“Oh what's the big deal?” Hermione asked. “He's just a Quidditch player, right?”

Ron looked at Hermione in disbelief. “Hermione, Viktor Krum is the greatest Quidditch player in the world! He always catches the snitch, and he's never lost an international match. I can't believe he's still in school.”

As Ron and Hermione began debating the usefulness of Quidditch, Lily looked at the books Nathan had ignored inside the box. Flipping through the books, Lily nodded. “I recognize a few of these titles, they probably have all the spells you need to enchant the broom. It won't move like a Firebolt, but I'm sure you could get it to fly. Are you going to try to enchant it, Harry?”

Harry shrugged. “I've never tried enchanting something with that many spells, all of which have to interact with one another. It might be fun to try.”

“If you manage it, let me know,” James said. “I'll test the broom for you. The last thing I'd want is for you to be flying on the thing and it fails while you are up in the air.”

“Yeah, that wouldn't be good.” Harry agreed. “I'll let you know when I've finished it. Viktor also said he'd be sending some tickets to the final in the next couple of days.”

“Are you serious! He actually sends you tickets to his matches?” Ron's face quickly shifted from awe to envy in a split second.

“Not just tickets,” Sirius interjected, “Krum gave Harry permission to use his private box for the semifinal match in Paris.”

“You mean you were actually there when Krum pulled off that reverse bottleneck in the middle of a dive?” Ron asked.

“Yeah,” Sirius said, clearly reminiscing, “It was the best catch of the Snitch I've ever seen. The photos in the papers didn't do it justice.”

“Yes, well,” James interjected, “you can write Viktor and let him know tickets won't be necessary. Your mother and I were going to surprise you boys, but we've got tickets for the final already.”

“Really?” Nathan asked, excited. “That's great!”

“My father told me we've got tickets as well,” Ron said proudly.

“I'll let Viktor know I've already got tickets.” Harry picked up his new broom and books before adding, “I'm going to go put the broom up in my room.”

Leaving the kitchen, Harry made his way through the living room and up the stairs. As he passed a window, he couldn't help but notice an owl lazily flying in circles up in the sky. Ignoring the animal, Harry reached the top of the stairs and unlocked his door. Walking into his room, Harry made his way into his study before dropping the broomstick down on his desk.

With a very clear image in his mind, Harry did his best to conjure a comfortable straight back chair. With a soft THUD, the chair dropped to the ground and, after a careful inspection, Harry smiled. The chair didn't have any of the obvious faults his earlier attempts at conjuring had. Taking a seat, Harry grimaced slightly.

While the chair might appear physically fine, it was not as comfortable as he had intended. Still, it was progress. Harry prepared to cast a cushioning charm when there was a sharp tapping on his window. Glancing outside, he spotted the owl he saw earlier hovering outside.

Flicking his wand, Harry opened the window, allowing the bird to flutter inside. The owl immediately went to him, and set a parcel down on his desk. With a single look, Harry could tell that the item was a book. Figuring that the gift was probably from Calypso, he removed the card from the bird.

Harry,

Happy 14th birthday. Hope everything is going well for you.

Father still won't tell me the spells to make an earth elemental. He's virtually ignored me this summer, leaving me by myself as he vacations at our summer home in Crete. While I would have liked his help for some of the magic I've been practicing, his absence has given me a chance to go through our family's library unencumbered.

A few days ago, I found this book, and I thought it might interest you.

Happy Birthday

Calypso

Removing the wrapping, Harry looked curiously at the book Calypso had sent him. The book had a pasty color to its cover, and it looked to be somewhat old, but well cared for. Flipping a few pages into the book, a smile appeared on Harry's face; however, as he glanced at the chapter list, he had to clamp down hard on his emotions to remain calm.

As he stared at the harmless looking book, Harry knew why Calypso had chosen it, and a part of him was even thankful that she had sent it to him. It would be useful – that did not doubt – but if the wrong person found it...

“Harry!” Sirius called from downstairs. “We're about to run out of cake. What're you doing up there? Writing your girlfriend?”

Using every mental trick he knew, Harry stood up and prepared to make his way downstairs as though nothing was wrong. With a final glance at the book on his desk, Harry walked out of his room and cast the most powerful series of locking charms he had ever attempted. Today was his birthday, and he really didn't want to explain to his parents why he was sent a book whose final chapter was on the theory of inferius creation.


	15. Summer of Magic Part 2

The Mitigated Truth  
Black Estate, Cardiff, Aug. 5th

Stepping out of the floo, Harry was immediately pulled into a hug.

“Harry,” Sirius said happily. “Ready?”

Sirius' grin was infectious, and soon Harry was smiling back at his uncle. “Absolutely.”

“Well let's get started.” Sirius led his godson into the living room where most the furniture was already pushed against the walls. Taking a seat on a cushion in the middle of the floor, Sirius gestured for Harry to sit opposite him. “Go through your exercises.”

Nodding his head, Harry cleared his mind to calm himself. After a few minutes, he held out his arm and took several deep breathes while thinking about his form. He pictured the doberman's strong, muscular, leg. He focused on how the muscles were tight, and always ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. He envisioned himself running through a forest, his speed gathering with every bound.

Slowly, he felt his arm changing. The muscles began shifting while the hair on his arm began to shrink and thicken. As his bones began to rearrange themselves, Harry did his best to keep his mind on the transformation. Mistakes were made when you lost focus, and Harry knew all too well the pain a half transformed limb could cause.

After a moment, Harry opened his eyes and grinned. His left arm had completely turned into one of the doberman's four legs. He ran his hand over the limb and marveled at how seemingly perfect the transformation had gone.

“Well done.” Sirius had a huge smile on his face as he watched his godson complete the first step in the transformation. “How did it feel?”

“Less painful,” Harry admitted.

Sirius' smile somehow managed to grow. “Excellent. That means you're becoming accustomed to the change. Pretty soon it'll start to feel completely natural. Now, turn the limb back to normal.”

Taking a deep breath, Harry focused on the image he had of himself. Far sooner than he expected, he looked on as the doberman's leg quickly shifted back into his arm. “Amazing,” he said as the transformation finished, “I didn't feel a thing.”

“Well, I think you're ready Harry.”

Swallowing somewhat nervously, Harry asked, “You really think so?”

“I do,” Sirius said emphatically, “but what did I tell you when you first started?”

“That what you think doesn't matter. It's my body and my magic.” Harry felt his confidence rise. “I think I'm ready as well. I didn't feel a thing turning my arm back to normal.”

“Okay then, Harry.” Sirius stood up. “This will be one of the hardest parts of the transformation, so if it looks like it's going wrong, I'm going to immediately change you back, okay? Don't fight the magic if you feel yourself changing back suddenly. It's likely me forcing you back to normal, and I'll only step in if it's not working.”

Excitement built up inside him and Harry did his best to remain calm and collected. He'd been waiting since his first lesson with Sirius to do this, and he couldn't help but feel some anticipation. With the doberman clear in his mind, Harry willed himself to change. He pictured the long tongue, the floppy ears, and the sharp canines. As soon as he thought about the doberman's snout nose, he began to feel the first change. At first, it felt like his head was being crushed, but then he could feel his skull and cartilage start to be reshaped.

His eyes began to burn and his nose felt like it was being ripped off his body, but Harry kept a clear picture of the doberman in his mind. When his jaw unhinged and was reconstructed, he wanted to scream, but all that came out of his mouth was a pitiful sounding whine. Feeling a pain in the back of his neck, Harry fell forward onto all fours and he felt his back crack slightly. Suddenly feeling the need for more air, he opened his mouth and felt a long tongue slip from his mouth.

After several deep breathes, Harry opened his eyes and he saw Sirius standing a foot away from him. His godfather had his wand drawn and was staring at him very intently. Taking a step forward on his hands and knees, Harry lifted his body up and licked Sirius across the face, causing his godfather to lurch away and sputter.

“Disgusting. No wonder your dad always got mad at me when I did that,” Sirius said, wiping away the excess saliva off his face. “You did it though. Congratulations Harry.” Waving his wand, Sirius conjured a large mirror directly in front of his godson.

Harry looked back at his reflection in awe. His body was almost completely human, except his head was that of a doberman. Seeing the doberman head on his body was more than slightly disturbing, and Harry concentrated on turning back. An agonizing minute later, a fully human Harry Potter was kneeling in front of his godfather, who was quickly inspecting him to ensure that he didn't leave off a part of his human head.

“Everything looks okay.” Sirius reported. “How'd it feel?”

“A little awkward, but I felt the same way when I first started working on my arms,” Harry said casually.

“Understandable. You're almost there kid. Once you master getting the head, we can work on the body, and then it's just a matter of putting it all together. You should be good to go by this time next summer.” Sirius looked intently at his godson. “Remember Harry, you promised not to work on the transformation at school this year. You're getting into the most difficult aspect of the transformation and the last thing I want is for you to rush ahead and hurt yourself.”

“I remember.”

“And do your best to temper your friends' progress as well,” Sirius advised. “In fact, it might be good if you didn't even tell them how far along you are. They might do something stupid to catch up with you, especially if they're the competitive type.”

“Yeah, I'll try to keep it to myself, but Calypso will probably try to drag it out of me at some point.” Thinking of Calypso caused Harry to hesitate. He knew his family would be meeting her in a few days, and Harry was still trying to decide if he should tell them ahead of time that she was a Rosier.

“You okay, Harry?” Sirius asked, looking at his godson in concern.

“No, not exactly,” Harry said honestly. “Um, Sirius, I have a problem, and I'd like to talk to you about it.”

“Okay,” Sirius said slowly, “let's go into the kitchen and talk Harry.”

As he followed Sirius, Harry wondered exactly how much he should tell his godfather about Calypso. He had been thinking of confiding in Sirius for some time, but, even now, he was concerned. Taking a seat, Harry accepted a glass of water and bit his lip nervously.

Sirius sat opposite Harry looking worried. “What's going on Harry?”

“If I tell you something, will you keep it from my mum and dad?”

“Provided that it isn't anything dangerous,” Sirius said, “I suppose I can keep it to myself.”

Figuring that would be the best he would get, Harry nodded his head. “Okay Sirius, it's like this, the girl I'm dating, Calypso. Well, her name's Calypso Rosier, and her father was a Death Eater.”

Much to Harry's surprise, Sirius didn't react at hearing her name. “I see,” he said, seemingly in deep thought. “So Evan had a kid before he died. That's...interesting.”

Harry was about to say that Evan Rosier wasn't her father before he thought better of it. There was no reason to tell Sirius his Dark Arts Professor was also a Rosier. His parents had never really been comfortable with him being advanced in that class, and he didn't want to give them any reason more to be concerned... or take him out of Durmstrang.

“So, a Rosier,” Sirius said lamely. “Well, I don't know what you want me to say, Harry. Your parents, Merlin, me as well, we don't exactly have a great history with any of them.”

“Calypso isn't like her father.” Harry felt the need to defend his girlfriend. “She's... she doesn't think Voldemort was right.”

Sirius sighed. “Harry, I have to ask this, okay?”

Harry nodded.

“Do you know who she lives with? If her father's dead...”

Looking right into his godfather's eyes, Harry knew exactly where Sirius was going with his questions. Feeling more than a little bit angry, he snapped out, “She's not spying on me, nor is she trying to use me to get to Nathan.”

Tensing slightly, Sirius held up his hands. “Harry, I wasn't saying–”

“You were thinking it!” Harry took a deep breath and forcibly calmed himself. “I know you were thinking it, Sirius, but she's not like that.”

“How are you so sure I was thinking it?” Sirius asked, narrowing his eyes somewhat.

Deciding to come clean, Harry said, “Legilimency.”

Sirius immediately frowned. “Mind reading. Just bloody great.”

“You know of it?” Harry asked, surprised. “I thought mind magic was pretty rare.”

“Oh, it's rare enough alright, but after your little obsession to learn Occlumency last year, your mum asked me to raid my old family library for anything on the subject. I didn't find anything on Occlumency, but I found a book on Legilimency. So, when did you learn it?”

“It's part of being an Occlumens. You either learn how to ignore the flashes of insight or you bring it under control.”

“And, naturally, you learned how to control it.” Sirius frowned. “Which means you knew what you were doing snooping around my head.”

“You weren't exactly hiding where you were going with your question.” Harry defended himself. “To a Legilimens you were practically screaming the question.”

“Fine, whatever.” Sirius said, waving the issue off. “My concern still stands. How do you know?”

“I've been inside her head for one. I know how she feels for me, and I've known her thoughts on blood purity for years.”

“What are her thoughts?” Sirius asked.

“Beyond passing down some of the rarer magical talents like Metamorphmagi, Calypso doesn't care about blood at all, Sirius,” Harry said emphatically. “Calypso is just too pragmatic to be a purist. She respects talent, ability, and skill above everything else. It doesn't matter if you're a Pureblood, Half-blood, or Muggleborn. As long as you're dedicated to improving yourself, she'll respect you.”

“Well that's good. I didn't think you'd be one to date a blood purist, and she certainly seemed nice when we met in Paris.” Sirius took a deep breath. “You're going to have to come clean at some point Harry, and I would do it sooner rather than later. Your dad shouldn't take the news so badly,” Sirius said, seemingly thinking out loud, “I'm proof enough that not everyone is like their family, and it's not like she was raised by that shit head Evan. Your mum, well, she might not like the Rosiers, but Lily isn't one to hold a family name against someone. ”

“Why does my mum hate the Rosiers?” Harry asked.

“It's complicated, Harry.” Sirius sighed. “And, honestly, I'm probably not the best person to tell you since it involves Snape, and I'm not exactly unbiased when it comes to Snivellus.”

“Professor Snape? What does he have to do with it?”

“Harry, you know that Snape and your mum were old friends,” Sirius hesitated, “but did you know they had a pretty bad falling out during Hogwarts?”

Harry shook his head.

“Well they did. From the end of our fifth year until... well, until you and your brother were seven or so, your mum and Snape barely spoke to each other.”

“Really?” Harry asked. “Mum said Professor Snape was her oldest friend. What happened?”

“It's a long story Harry, but Snape was always really good at the Dark Arts.” Sirius explained. “He started hanging out with Rosier's lot starting around our third year. It was only a matter of time until he and your mum had a falling out. After that, well... let's just say it took some time for your mum and Snape to reconcile.”

Harry wasn't an idiot. He knew when his uncle said Rosier's lot, Sirius most likely meant Death Eaters, but that would mean... “Wait! Was Professor Snape a Death Eater?”

“He was,” Sirius said, not bothering to hide the truth from his mind reading godson. “Obviously, it's still a sensitive topic, and your mum didn't want either of you to know. Don't tell your brother. Merlin, don't even tell your mum I told you. Forget hexes, she'd curse me for letting you know.”

“So, does Mum blame Rosier for turning Snape into a Death Eater?” Harry ventured a guess.

Sirius shrugged. “Personally, I don't think Snape needed a reason to turn dark, but I'd say your mum feels that way, yeah.”

“That's not Calypso's fault,” Harry said stubbornly.

“I know, kid, I know,” Sirius said sympathetically. “So when are you going to tell your parents?”

“Probably before the world cup. She's going to be there.”

“Your parents are looking forward to meeting her you know, your brother as well.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Sirius hesitated for a second before he walked over to the cabinet and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of Fire Whiskey. “Not a word to your mother,” Sirius said after pouring a very small amount in a glass and pushing it towards his godson. Taking a sip of his own glass, Sirius added, “It'll all work out alright, Harry. In the mean time, why don't I show you a few of those illusion spells you were asking about?”

Pushing aside the glass of amber liquid, Harry did his best to listen to his uncle describe an active projection spell. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little nervous. Calypso would be meeting his family in less than a month.

ooo0000ooo

  
Situational Moralism  
Godric's Hollow, Aug. 14th

Walking down the hill from the Quidditch pitch, Harry carefully made his way to a seldom used part of the Potter property. Fighting the urge to turn around and get something to eat, he cleared his mind and continued onward until he reached a large oak tree that was strangely forgettable. Tracing his wand down the middle of the tree, Harry felt the Notice-Me-Not charm fade away. Stepping past the tree, he carefully replaced the spells and added a Muffliato to ensure his privacy.

Enjoying the crisp night air, Harry moved between two large bushes and into a circular clearing that was almost completely surrounded by large trees. This was where Harry had honed some of the more dangerous curses he had committed himself to learning for the Triwizard Tournament, and all around him were testaments to how far he had come over the summer. To his left there were trees that were barely standing from curse damage while on his right a line of evergreens had holes the size of Quaffles through the middle of their trunks.

Tonight would be different though. Tonight, Harry wasn't here to curse the trees or bewitch any local animal.

Moving to the center of the clearing, Harry repeatedly cast aguamenti on the ground, moistening the earth. Ignoring the worms that had started to come to the moist surface, he knelt down, muttered an incantation, and placed the tip of his wand into the muddy ground. As soon as his wand sank into the mud, there was a hiss and smoke could be seen rising from where his wand and the earth touched.

Slowly, Harry began to drag his arm in a circle, his wand baking the dirt it touched.

As Harry moved his wand, he tried to keep his emotions in check. This was magic on a different level. Magic that many never learned, let alone attempted.

Once the circle was completed, Harry stood up and inspected his work. Everything appeared just as Romulus' notes described it: a pool of muddy earth contained within a circle, sealed separately from the rest of the ground.

Closing his eyes and taking several deep breaths, Harry cleared his mind. It hadn't taken long for him to read through the book Calypso had sent him for his birthday, and he was fortunate to have it. While the book didn't include the necessary spells that Romulus had provided, it did explain the theoretical foundation for what needed to be done, and, more importantly, why.

While the effect he was seeking might be accomplished through extremely advanced Charms and Transfiguration, the ritual would cut down on the time and difficulty significantly. This expediency had a cost, but Harry was willing to pay it.

Taking a step forward so that he was standing directly over wet dirt, Harry raised his wand and cast a weak accio at the muddied ground.

Slowly, various worms, beetles, and other insects started to emerge from the mud and crawled around the ritual space. “The blood of the earth,” Harry intoned stoically while casting a wide arching laceration curse at the creatures, killing them instantly.

Harry felt the slightest tremor come from below his feet, but he paid it no heed as he pressed forward. Running his wand down the palm of his hand, Harry let a few drops of blood fall into the circle before quickly healing himself. “Blood of the caster.”

Watching the ground carefully, Harry was pleased to see the the muddied earth was now slowly twisting and turning in a clockwise circle. Harry reached in the small bag he brought with him and removed a tiny rabbit he had caught earlier in the day. Casting another sleeping charm on the animal, Harry couldn't help but feel a little disquieted by what he was about to do.

Casting a spell into the swirling mud, a small chasm opened up within the ritual space. Forcing away his emotions, Harry dropped the rabbit into the small hole before reversing the sleeping charm.

The rabbit's eyes snapped open, and, realizing its location, immediately tried to escape. As soon as its feet touched the swirling earth that encircled it, the mud seemed to collapse in on itself, pinning the creature underneath. Harry winced slightly as the rabbit managed to get its head above the mud, only to be sucked back under more forcefully. When the ritual space began glowing white, Harry solemnly said, “Life of the image.”

Raising his wand, Harry cast the final spell, watching intently as it struck the earth.

Immediately, two muddy, yet discernible, legs erupted out of the mud and began to frantically search for dry land. The legs were quickly followed by a head, body, and, finally, a pair of rear legs and tail. Doing his best to maintain his focus, Harry kept his wand leveled at the small rabbit that stepped free of the mud.

As soon as it exited the ritual circle, the creature's body dropped into a defensive stance, its empty black eyes tracking Harry's every movement.

Even from where he stood, Harry could easily tell that the construct wasn't actually alive. Its entire body seemed to be made of the swirling mud that comprised the ritual circle. Taking a step forward, Harry was unprepared for the rabbit construct to leap at him, one of its paws lashing out to cut him.

Harry just managed to side-step the construct. He watched as it crashed to the earth, the landing collapsing the creature's back legs and reducing them back to mud.

The construct opened its mouth to screech at Harry, but no sound came out. Instead, Harry got a clear look into the constructs mouth. Where there should have been a tongue, teeth, and internal body parts, there was only a gaping maw filled with maggots and insects that seemed to be clawing over each other to escape.

Realizing that something had gone very wrong with the ritual, Harry released a powerful blast of water, hitting the construct. While he hadn't managed to dramatically improve upon his casting of Aqua Eructo, Harry found his control for his other water spells was improving with his continued practice of the difficult charm.

Within a few moments, the continued water pressure broke the construct's muddy body apart. Wrinkling his nose as the terrible smell, Harry vanished the mud with a flick of his wrist.

Casting a series of cleaning charms on his robes, Harry decided to call it a night.

“I need to catch another rabbit,” Harry muttered to himself as he left the clearing. “The construct didn't look right, and it wasn't obeying commands like it was supposed to.”

Walking out from beyond the trees, Harry quickly crossed the distance to his house; however, the sight of a light inside the kitchen gave him pause.

Harry had always been careful about not leaving any trace of his late night ventures outside, and the last thing he would do is leave a light on – someone must be awake.

Hoping that his parents hadn't found out he was out of bed, Harry cast a disillusionment and silencing charm on himself. Carefully looking through a kitchen window, he let out a slight relieved breath when he saw it was only his brother sitting at the kitchen table drinking a glass of pumpkin juice.

Making his way to the back door, Harry cast a Notice-Me-Not charm, and slowly crept inside.

Walking past the kitchen, Harry heard the slight scraping of one of his family's wooden chairs against the wood floor. Pausing slightly, Harry leaned in to the kitchen when he heard his brother say something.

“...ust a dream. Yeah, nothing to worry about. Probably shouldn't eat chocolate that late again.”

Scowling at his brother's stupid reason for being up so late, Harry immediately made his way back upstairs and into his room.

He never saw his pale and frightened brother follow him up the stairs a few minutes later.

ooo0000ooo  
  
Welcome to the World Cup  
Godric's Hollow, Aug. 22nd

“Come in!”

Pushing the door open, Sirius practically bound into the room, his excitement tangible. “You ready, kiddo?”

Putting on Viktor's junior national team jersey, Harry nodded. “Whenever you are, Uncle Sirius.”

“Good, I promised your parents that we'd be there for lunch with the Weasleys.” Seeing his godson frown somewhat, Sirius said, “Yeah, I know they're not your favorite people, and, between the two of us, I think Molly is a bit... well, domineering, but it's not worth the trouble of not showing up. You're lucky your parents didn't make you go with them to the campsite earlier today.”

“Mum knows I've been working hard to permanently enchant my room. Not to mention, I think Mum and Dad have finally realized that the less time I have to spend around Ron the better.” Harry said uncaringly.

“That's probably true.” Sirius agreed. “Of course, it helps to have an incredibly generous uncle who likes to sleep in and was planning on showing up around noon anyway.”

“Yeah, he is a pretty stellar guy. It's just too bad that his jokes aren't funny.” Harry casually batted aside a weak stinging hex before sticking his tongue out at his uncle.

Grumbling about his precocious, wiseass godson, Sirius led Harry through the house and out the front door. Just before they reached the edge of the anti-disapparation ward, Sirius said, “Before we leave, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Meeting his godfather's eyes, Harry immediately knew what was coming. “I was going to tell them, uncle Sirius, but I couldn't find a good time to do it. I mean, it's not like I can just say, 'hey Mum and Dad, you know my girlfriend? Well she's a Rosier and her relatives were Death Eaters, but she's great, you'll love her.'”

“So you're just going to spring it on them at some point?” Sirius asked, ignoring his godson's sarcasm. “I don't think that's a good idea. When is she showing up?”

“No, I'm not going to spring it on them. I just..., okay, I don't know what I was thinking. I just couldn't think of a way to bring it up.” Harry nervously looked at his godfather. “Calypso will be stopping by our tent after the match.”

“It'll be okay, Harry,” Sirius said, sympathetically, “and, for what it's worth, I'll do my best to help.”

“Thanks, Uncle Sirius.” Harry said, slightly relieved.

Placing a hand on his godson's shoulder, Sirius apparated them to the designated apparation zone for the match.

“Please step forward, we need to keep the landing area clear,” A portly witch said immediately. “What's your last name?”

“Black.”

The witch tapped her wand to a roll of parchment. “Ah, I see. You have a tent for six in the Chimera block. Your balance has already been paid. Do you need directions?”

“No, we're fine. Thank you,” Sirius said, leading Harry pasted the woman.

“Tent for six?” Harry asked. “I thought you were planning on staying with us. Do I even want to know what your plans are for later?”

Sirius laughed. “Nah, nothing like that. Nymphadora won the graduation draw at the Auror Academy. She got the weekend off and a free ticket to the match, so I offered to let her and her friends borrow my tent. Officially, the tent's under my name though.”

“Tonks is here?” Harry asked. “Do you think she'll stop by?”

“Ha, sorry kid. I doubt you'll get a chance to see her. Something tells me she and her friends are going to be out partying, probably are right now come to think of it.” Sirius grinned unabashedly at his godson. “So, does your girlfriend know about your longtime crush on my little cousin? Maybe I could arrange a quick introduction.”

Harry rolled his eyes. He had made the mistake of confiding in Sirius that he thought Tonks was pretty when he was five, and his uncle had never let him forget it.

The two wizards continued to walk down the winding path through the forest until the trees seemed to part, opening up into a massive clearing. Harry's eyes widened slightly, and he couldn't help but be impressed by the massive stadium that dominated the landscape. The virtual city of small tents that surrounded it easily dwarfed the semi-final match he and Sirius had witnessed in Paris.

“How many people are here?”

“The stadium seats over a hundred thousand,” Sirius replied.

“This place is huge.”

“Don't worry, Harry, I know where we're supposed to go,” Sirius said. “Your dad got a spot close to the west stadium entrance. He said it's near the Bulgarian side, but it looks like the apparation point has put us on the wrong side of the stadium. I guess we can either cut through the Irish fans or walk the entire way around. What do you say, Harry? Short or long way?”

“Short.”

“Alright.” Sirius gestured towards a massive amount of green tents in the distance. “Think we can manage to get through that lot without someone noticing that jersey of yours? I don't think your parents will be happy if I got you to the campsite with hex marks”

Muttering about it taking more than a few Irishmen to get the drop on him, Harry pushed Sirius towards the tents. Still, he made sure his wand was somewhere within reach. He didn't think someone would be stupid enough to try something with half the Ministry patrolling the area, but he'd be damned if he got hexed by some random, drunken, Irish supporters.

As they made their way into the mass of Irish tents, Harry spotted several people toasting large tankards and laughing uproariously about something. A few people gave his Bulgarian jersey a few looks, but they did nothing more than sneer at him as he and Sirius passed.

“Looks like you're making friends already, Harry,” Sirius said sarcastically, spotting the dark looks his godson was receiving.

Seeing a particularly mean looking group of Irish fans leave a nearby tent, Harry began subtly increasing his pace. “Next time, I'll pack a bag and change when I come to one of these matches.”

“Might be a good idea,” Sirius agreed as they finally began to see the end of the shamrock infested tents. “Do you know if the Bulgarian fans have done something like those shamrocks?”

“Yeah,” Harry said thoughtfully. “I think Viktor mentioned that the fans at the last few matches had done something, but I don't remember what. Whatever it was, I don't think he liked it.”

“Do you want to take a look?”

“Maybe later. I'm kind of hungry. Besides, I bet Nathan or my parents could tell us whatever the Bulgarians have done.”

Nodding in agreement, Sirius led Harry down the small dirt path that led to the stadium. Eventually, Sirius spotted Lily standing outside a tent with the words 'Dursley' above it.

“Hey Mum,” Harry called out, causing Lily to turn at the sound of his voice.

“Harry, Sirius good to see you made it.” Lily gave her son a brief hug. “We were just about to floo home to make sure you two were on your way.”

Sirius appeared to be offended. “Lily, surely, you didn't doubt my ability to get Harry here.”

Lily just rolled her eyes at Sirius before leading them into the tent where the Weasleys and James were talking. Immediately noticing his best friend and son entering the tent, James stood up from the table and went over to greeted both. “Good, looks like everybody is here now. We're just waiting for Nathan, Ron, and Hermione to get back with some water. So, how late did you end up sleeping in, Harry?”

“About ten,” Harry replied. “I've almost mastered the enchantments for the more advanced application of the space-enhancement charm. Hopefully, I'll be able to get it down before I go back to Durmstrang.”

“Well done, Harry,” James said appreciatively. “I'm sure you'll figure it out. Why don't we all take a seat next to Ron's older brothers. I don't think either of you have had a chance to meet them yet. The tall older one with the earring is Bill and the one in the charred-brown leather is Charlie.”

Upon hearing their names, both men turned their heads.

“You need something, Mr. Potter?” Bill asked curiously.

“No, Bill,” James replied, dropping into an open seat. “This is my best mate Sirius Black, and my son Harry. I was just doing a brief introduction.”

Walking over to the table, Harry asked Charlie, “Are you the one my brother sent a dragon to during his first year?”

“Yup. I had some friends pick up Norbert on their way to Wales.” Charlie shook his head ruefully. “I really thought they'd gotten away with it. To bad about that kid going too McGonagall. So, you're at Durmstrang, huh? Any chance you know Krum? He's still a student, right?”

Sirius snorted. “He knows Krum alright. The guy bought Harry a Firebolt for a birthday present. Of course, he had the manufacturer strip the broom of all the enchantments so Harry could cast them himself. How's that coming along by the way, Harry? You get the anti-breaking charms to work yet?”

Ignoring the surprised looks the older Weasley brothers were giving him, Harry said, “No, not yet. The flying charm was remarkably easy to enchant to the broom, but the other spells are a lot more complex. I have no idea how broom makers manage to get the acceleration spell to work in conjunction with the cushioning charm. Every time I've tried it, they cancel each other out.”

“Wait,” Bill said, suddenly, “You're actually trying to enchant a broomstick? I thought you were Ron's age?”

“I am. It's complex, but it's not the hardest thing I've ever tried to do. Plus, it's been a surprisingly useful way to study how multiple enchantments interact with one another.”

“So you've got a bit more respect for broom makers now, Harry?” James asked.

Harry smiled and nodded politely at his father. The truth was while he had originally started to enchant the broom to fly, he had quickly grown bored with the project. Almost a week after his birthday, Harry began enchanting the broom to throw anyone off that tried to fly it and to burn the rider's hands. Better his parents think that he was having trouble enchanting the broom than reveal he was practicing how to curse an object.

“Well, looks like the gang's all here,” Sirius said happily as Ron, Hermione, and Nathan entered the tent. “Who's ready for lunch?”

“Where were you?” Harry asked his brother.

“Just went for a look around,” Nathan said pleasantly. “There's some really cool stuff out there. Vendors are selling everything.”

“Did you get anything?” Harry asked curious.

Nathan shook his head. “No, but I might go back and get something later.”

“Yeah, those Omnioculars sure looked useful,” Ron interjected.

“Hello Harry, nice to see you again,” Hermione said diplomatically.

“You too, Hermione. So, what do you think of this whole place?” Harry asked, only slightly paying attention. The amount of self-pity and unease that Ron seemed to be radiating was especially annoying, and Harry had to mentally reel in his passive Legilimency.

“Oh, it's simply incredible,” Hermione gushed. “Nathan, Ron, and I were able to walk around a bit before, and I cannot believe how many different countries are represented. We even saw a few people from other magical schools, do you know if there are a lot of people from Durmstrang here?”

Thinking of Viktor's support network at school, Harry nodded. “Yeah, there's definitely going to be a lot of Durmstrang people here. I'm not sure how many, but I'm sure they're around somewhere.”

“I still can't believe Mum and Dad let you sleep in today,” Nathan grumbled good naturedly. “We had to be up at six, and we've been working this entire time.”

“Nathan, you're the one that begged Mum and Dad to go with the Weasleys.” Harry reminded his brother. “It's not like it takes long to apparate here.”

“Oh, Harry,” Lily said from down the table. “Sirius just told us we're finally going to get to meet your girlfriend later.”

To the outside observer, Harry was perfectly relaxed, but internally he was struggling to keep his emotions in check. “Yes, she said she'll stop by after the match. I just have to owl her directions on how to get here from the stadium.”

“Well, I can't wait to finally meet her,” James said enthusiastically. “You've been telling us about her since your first year. It'll be nice to finally have a face to put with the name.”

“I'm sure you'll like her.”

Turning to his brother, Harry quickly brought the subject back to the upcoming Quidditch match. As Ron spouted off some useless fact about the Irish Chasers, Harry did his best not to think about his parents eventually meeting Calypso.

ooo0000ooo  
  
A Minor Obstruction  
Quidditch World Cup...

“This is going to be incredible!” Ron practically jumped up and down with excitement as the Weasleys, Potters, Sirius, and Hermione made their way into the massive stadium. All around them exuberant fans were chanting songs to support their team while various vendors shouted offers for their goods.

Passing a particularly energetic vendor offering a miniature Viktor Krum statue for one galleon six sickles, Harry was tempted to buy the figurine as a joke for his friend. Idly, Harry wondered just how much Viktor made from merchandise sales that used his image. Viktor had mentioned that the players got a certain percentage, and, judging from the sheer amount of Krum everything, his friend must be doing very well financially.

“I know,” Nathan replied just as enthused. “Can you believe we're going to be in the top box?”

Harry could. While not especially wealthy, his family was certainly well-known within the Ministry. All the interaction his parents had with the Minister, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the Headmaster during the search for Pettegrew had apparently raised his family's already considerable standing with the key decision makers in government. Harry had even overheard his parents quietly discussing whether his father should try to gain an appointment to the Wizengamot when a few older members decided to retire – or, more likely, die – in a few years.

What Harry couldn't figure out was how the Weasleys had gotten the tickets. Someone had mentioned something about Mr. Weasley doing a favor for the Head of Magical Games and Sports, but it must have been one incredible favor to get top box tickets.

“Just out of curiosity, who exactly are you rooting for Ron?” Harry asked, completely perplexed by Ron's hodgepodge of Irish and Bulgarian attire.

“Our dear brother was going for the Irish,” Fred or George Weasley, Harry couldn't quite tell which, began, “until he realized there was a chance he might be able to meet the Viktor Krum.”

Harry arched an eyebrow. “And how is he going to be meeting Viktor?”

“Come on Harry,” Nathan said, “is there any way we could meet him? Sirius said he meet him in France, right?”

“Sure did!” Sirius draped an arm over Nathan's shoulders. “Great guy. Signed a jersey for Dora and took a few pictures before leaving.”

While Ron was practically salivating at the thought of getting a signed jersey from Viktor Krum, Harry simply glared at his godfather. Viktor had jokingly sent Sirius a few of those pictures – mostly consisting of Harry stumbling around the tent before passing out – and if Harry had his way, he'd be destroying every copy Viktor still had once he returned to Durmstrang.

“It depends if Bulgaria wins or not,” Harry said. “I have no idea what Viktor's plans are, but I bet if they win, the team will be going out to party. Honestly, I could probably go with them if I asked.”

James looked torn between pride that his son could get invited to party with a world champion Quidditch squad and unease about what would likely be happening at such a party. Fortunately for him, his wife didn't see any sort of dilemma.

“You will not be going to any party, Harry.” Lily said immediately, horrified by the thought. “You're way too young to be going out with adults.”

“Any chance you could swing an invite for me and Nymphadora's friends?” Sirius probed hopefully.

Harry just shook his head and laughed as the group made it into the top box.

Already, there were dozens of individuals milling around talking with one another. A massive open window at the far end provided a truly breathtaking view of the stadium and pitch. For the first time, it dawned on Harry that his friend was on the cusp of a truly amazing achievement, and he couldn't help but feel a growing amount of anticipation.

“Arthur! James!” A boisterous man in bright blue robes quickly approached the group, giving a very enthusiastic handshake to both men. “Absolutely astonishing, isn't it?”

“Ludo, your department has outdone themselves,” James said honestly. “This is incredible. My father took me to the World Cup back in the day, and it was hardly this impressive.”

Harry watched as Ludo Bagman seemed to glow with pride at his father's comments. “Thank you, thank you. I'd find some good seats if I were you,” Ludo said conspiratorially. “I've just been given word that the Minister has arrived at the stadium, and we'll be starting soon after he gets here.”

After a quick thank you to the Head of Magical Games and Sports, the group made their way towards a group of seats near the center of the box, just next to a few seats that were marked as reserved. Not a few seconds after they made it to their seats, most the chatter in the room seemed to quiet down. Turning his head, Harry saw Cornelius Fudge enter the box accompanied by various ministry officials and the Malfoys.

Hearing his brother and Ron curse under their breath at seeing Draco, Harry felt a greater deal of unease. Draco Malfoy knew he was friends with Calypso, possibly that they were dating. He wasn't sure how much Calypso, or her father, had confided in the Malfoys, but he was thankful Calypso hadn't arrived in the top box with her cousin.

As if things weren't getting complicated enough, Minister Fudge seemed to hone in on his father and immediately set off to where he was sitting – the Malfoys trailing just behind him.

“James!” Fudge said boisterously, drawing the attention of various foreign dignitaries. “So glad you could make it. Hope you and your lovely wife are doing well?”

“Minister Fudge,” James said with forced pleasantry. “We're doing just fine. Looking forward to a good match.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Fudge said, happily. “I'm sure it'll be a most outstanding match!” Turning to a tall man standing with his own entourage a few feet away, Fudge gestured at Nathan. “Nathan Potter. The Boy Who Lived, defeater of You-Know-Who.”

The man seemed completely perplexed by Fudge as he looked between the Potters and the Minister. Sighing, Fudge said, “The Bulgarian Minister. Poor man doesn't speak a word of English. It has been a challenge.” Pointing at Nathan's scar, Fudge repeated, “You-Know-Who. The Dark Lord.”

Annoyed that Fudge had turned his brother into a circus animal, Harry spoke to the Bulgarian Minister in Bulgarian. “What the Minister is doing such a terrible job of explaining is that my brother is Nathan Potter, and he was fortunate enough to experience a miraculous magical fluke that vanquished the Dark Lord when he was a child. ”

The Bulgarian delegation seemed taken aback by Harry before a they all started to grin. It was the Bulgarian Minister himself that spoke up. “Yes, we understood him. We simply enjoy watching him make a fool of himself. May I ask when you learned Bulgarian?”

“I go to Durmstrang. In order to listen to some of Bulgaria's matches that weren't broadcast in German, Viktor helped me learn the language.”

Recognizing that Harry was wearing an authentic Junior National Team jersey, the Minister seemed to reappraise Harry somewhat. “Viktor Krum?”

Harry nodded. “He's one of my best friends. I hope he crushes the Irish tonight.”

The entire Bulgarian delegation chuckled in appreciation. “Yes, we certainly hope so as well.” Turning to Nathan, the Bulgarian Minister shook his hand before leading his group over to their seats.

Everyone had remained silent as Harry and the Bulgarian Minister spoke, but, as soon as he led his delegation away, Minister Fudge smiled broadly at Harry. “Thank you for clearing that up young Mr. Potter. I dare say with Barty Crouch off dealing with some other V.I.Ps around the stadium, its been difficult to communicate with the Bulgarians.”

“It's no problem Minister,” Harry said politely.

Fudge seemed to consider something before saying, “I don't suppose you'd be willing to translate a bit? There are some policies I've been meaning to talk to the Minister about, but we've been unable to –”

While Harry was thinking of a nice way to telling the Minister that he'd rather take a bone breaking curse than act as his personal translator, a smiling Ludo Bagman made his way over to the group. “Minister, the crowd is getting restless, are you almost ready?”

“What?” Fudge asked. “Oh, Ludo! Yes, I suppose we should get started.”

As the Minister, Mr. Bagman, and the Malfoys set off towards a large central podium to begin the match, Draco lingered behind.

“Merlin, Weasley, what did your family do to get these tickets? Surely your house couldn't be worth this much?” Draco asked, staring at Ron in astonishment.

Taking a threatening step forward, Nathan snarled, “Shove off Malfoy.”

Draco looked ready to throw an insult back at Nathan before he grinned at Harry.

Harry didn't need to use Legilimency to know what Malfoy was about to do. Much to Harry's surprise though, Draco simply smiled, and offered him his hand. “I don't believe we ever got the chance to meet when you were at Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy.”

Wanting nothing more than to curse Malfoy, Harry unfortunately grasped the reality of the situation. If he told Malfoy to piss off, he had no doubt the next thing out of the boy's mouth would be something about Calypso. Knowing that his brother would likely be pissed at him, Harry shook Malfoy's hand while using Occlumency to keep his expression completely emotionless. “Harry Potter.”

“Nice to meet you,” Draco said, his eyes filled with mirth at the glare Nathan and Ron were sending him and Harry. “I've heard a bit about you, of course. I almost went to Durmstrang myself, but my mother wanted me closer to home.”

Deciding to stop the conversation before it got started, Harry shifted his body to obscure his brother and Ron's view. Erasing all sign of pleasantness from his face, Harry angrily willed himself into Draco's mind.

Doing his best to ignore the momentary sense of displacement, Harry felt various random thoughts and images flicker across Draco's mind. Forcing them aside, he focused on any memory Draco associated with Calypso and fear.

Immediately, the image of a much younger Calypso sending a burst of fire towards Draco flashed through Harry's mind. The thought was replaced by the image of Calypso, a look of rage on her face, blasting Draco away from her. Finally, a far more recent memory had Calypso holding her wand to Draco's throat – a murderous expression on her face.

Pulling back, Harry glared hatefully at Draco, who appeared a little shaken. Seeing a line of sweat running down Draco's face, Harry said, “I'm sure whatever you've heard, it's probably lacking in details. It might be best if you kept whatever you think you know to yourself. Wouldn't want you to embarrass yourself by saying something you shouldn't.”

With a thought, Harry cleared his mind, his cold expression instantly disappearing, only to be replaced by false cheerfulness. “Enjoy the match.”

“Yes. You too.” Draco said, uncertainly. The boy gave a nervous look around the stadium before trying to maintain his dignity by walking over to his father.

Turning away from Malfoy, Harry found it rather difficult to keep a smile off his face. As much as he told himself it was wrong, intimidating Draco was more than a little bit fun.

“What the bloody hell was that about!” Ron demanded as soon as Draco had walked away. “You're friends with Malfoy now?”

Harry scoffed. “Of course not.”

“What did Malfoy mean, he'd heard of you?” Nathan asked, stopping whatever Hermione was about to say.

Before Harry had to answer, Minister Fudge's voice echoed through the stadium thanking everyone for coming to the 422nd Quidditch World Cup. As Ron and Nathan turned their attention away from him and towards the pitch, Harry caught Hermione looking at him out of the corner of his eye. Abruptly, Harry realized that while his back had blocked Nathan and Ron from seeing his expression and just how scared he had made Malfoy, Hermione would have had a perfect vantage point to see them both.

ooo0000ooo  
  
It All Comes to a Head  
Path Back to the Potter Tent

“What a match!” Sirius cried happily, thumping Nathan on the back as the group walked back to their tents. “Too bad about Viktor though, Harry.”

Harry nodded his head in disappointment. The Irish Chasers had proved to be too much for Bulgaria, and Viktor had been forced to catch the Snitch knowing that his team would not have enough points to win.

“The Irish played incredibly,” Charlie Weasley said. “We knew how good their Chasers were coming in, but I don't think anyone predicted just how outplayed the Bulgarians would be. If the Bulgarian Chasers had been able to hold them off a little bit longer, Krum would have easily won the game for Bulgaria.”

“Couldn't agree more,” James interjected. “Lynch was barely conscious at the end there. No way he would have been able to see the Snitch, let alone outfly Krum to catch it. Your friend has nothing to be ashamed of Harry, he played incredibly. Man of the match as far as I'm concerned.”

“I'll be sure to tell him that, Dad,” Harry said, “But, knowing Viktor, I don't think it'll matter much to him. He's all about winning.”

All the Quidditch enthusiasts in the group seemed to nod their heads solemnly, easily understanding the point.

“Well, this is us,” Arthur called out, stopping outside the Weasley tent. “What time were you planning on leaving tomorrow, James?”

After a quick glance at his wife, James shrugged. “I don't know, Arthur, maybe around noon. I doubt the Irish are going to be awake until late in the afternoon, so we can probably all sleep in a bit. Maybe do brunch before we leave?”

“Sounds splendid,” Molly said, quickly agreeing. “I can prepare something. Would you like to arrive around eleven?”

“That sounds wonderful, Molly,” Lily said happily. “We'll see you then.”

“See you tomorrow, Ron, Hermione,” Nathan said.

Hermione smiled broadly. “Bye Nathan!”

“Later, mate,” Ron said, following his brothers into his family's tent.

As the Potters turned to make their way towards their tent, Sirius leaned over to Harry and quietly asked, “Nervous?”

Clearing his mind of emotion, Harry looked up at his godfather with a blank expression. “Very.”

Sirius shook his head. “Anyone ever tell you Occlumency is creepy?”

Allowing a small smile to cross his face, Harry nodded.

“Did you give Calypso directions on how to reach our tent?” Lily asked pleasantly.

“Yes, Mum,” Harry said, “she said she'd be here after the match.”

“Did she watch from Viktor's box?” Nathan asked, unable to keep the slight awe out of his voice. After seeing Viktor Krum fly in person, he was, for the first time, made painfully aware just how far he had to go if he wanted to play Quidditch professionally.

Harry shrugged. “Probably.”

“Well, I hope she gets here soon,” Lily said, pushing open the tent flap and leading everyone inside. “It's quite dark out, and I'd hate for her to get caught up with all those Irish fans doing Merlin knows what.”

“I'm sure she'll be fine,” Harry said, walking into the small living area and taking a seat.

“Feet off the table, Harry,” Lily scolded, seeing her oldest son stretching out.

“Nervous?” Nathan asked sitting next to his brother, a large grin spread wide across his face. “Merlin know's I don't want to think about the first girl I bring to meet Mum and Dad.”

“Please.” Harry snorted. “They already met and like Hermione.”

“Hermione's not my girlfriend.”

Harry laughed. “Not yet.”

“What,” Nathan spluttered, looking incomprehensibly at his brother. “Hermione and I are just friends. That's all!”

Wanting to do anything but think about the upcoming argument with his parents, Harry just smiled knowingly at his brother. “For now.”

“Forever,” Nathan said, turning a little pink around the neck.

Once again, Harry laughed, quickly drawing the attention of the adults.

“What's so funny?” James asked as everyone sat down.

“Harry thinks Hermione and I are dating.” Nathan said immediately. “We're not!”

“I didn't say you were dating,” Harry replied. “Just that you weren't dating yet.”

Sirius snorted while Lily and James looked amused by Nathan's continued denials.

“There's nothing going on between Hermione and I, and if you say anything to her I'll–”

“Harry,” James laughed, stopping the argument. “I do believe your friend is outside.”

Knowing that his father had placed several protective charms around their tent, Harry stood up and left the tent. He saw Calypso walking – well limping – up the dirt path near their tent's entrance. He quickly ran over to her, concern on his face.

Before he could ask what happened though, Calypso spoke. “Proximity ward?”

“Something like that,” Harry replied, looking Calypso up and down. Besides the slight limp, her left eye was turning yellow, and she seemed to be favoring her right side slightly.

Calypso nodded in understanding. “So who won the match?”

“Calypso, what happened?” Harry asked, a little annoyed that his parents first impression of Calypso was going to be of her after she was in some kind of fight.

“I,” Calypso started angrily, “was minding my own business, watching the start of the match with the Krums and Megara. That was until the bitch tried to curse me in the back.”

“Are you serious?” Harry asked. Kira was a lot of things, but he didn't think she'd start a fight in front of Viktor's parents.

“I might have mentioned to Mrs. Krum about Megara being Greek. It's not my fault Mrs. Krum asked why she didn't go to the Athenian Academy,” Calypso scowled darkly. “Bitch waited until I went to the loo before she tried anything.”

“What happened?” Harry asked in concern.

“I got lucky,” Calypso admitted distastefully. “A fricken house elf popped in and took the spell to the chest. Little bastard flew into my side, but at least I didn't take the curse full on. After that, Kira and I kind of fought.”

Harry shook his head at the likely understatement. “Who won?”

“Well,” Calypso looked particularly indignant as they walked into the Potter family tent. “I think I was a spell or two away from crushing her, but security arrived and stunned us both. Fortunately, they just threw us out and didn't arrest us.”

Maybe it was all the tension he felt at the thought of introducing Calypso to his parents for the first time; maybe it was the idea of Calypso and Kira being stunned and taken away by security; maybe it was the thought of Calypso meeting his parents with a bruising eye and a limp, but Harry simply found the entire situation hilarious. Slowly, he started to snicker, which quickly turned into a chuckle, eventually becoming a belly laugh.

“Stop laughing!” Calypso said indignantly, following Harry into his family's tent. “Did Krum at least win the stupid game?”

“Harry aren't you going to introduce us? Or at the very least tell us what's so funny?” James asked, slightly concerned. While the sound of his son laughing uproariously at something was very welcome, the sight of the slightly beaten up girl that had followed him into the tent was not.

“Sorry Dad.” Harry snickered a few more times before taking a deep breath and clearing his mind.

Sending a slight scowl at Harry, Calypso turned to the Potters and limped slightly over to them. “I apologize for my appearance, Mr. and Mrs. Potter. Viktor Krum's girlfriend and I have never seen eye to eye about, well, anything.”

“You were in a fight?” Lily asked, running her wand over the girl, parental concern taking precedent over what she considered poor behavior.

“She sent a curse at my back when I left the box to use the loo,” Calypso said, clearly annoyed.

Immediately, any sign of disapproval left Lily's face as she cast several healing Charms. “What a horrid thing to do!”

Idly, Harry recognized almost half the spells his mother was using, and he couldn't help but realize that Calypso certainly knew those spells as well. Wondering just how 'injured' his girlfriend really was, and how much of this was for show, Harry schooled his face into a blank mask as not to give anything away.

“Thank you, ma'am.” Calyspo smiled. “I don't supposed you could tell me who won the match? Kira and I were both stunned for fighting and escorted outside.”

“The Irish, but Krum caught the snitch,” Nathan said, standing up to get a better view of his brother's girlfriend. “Hi, I'm Harry's brother, Nathan.”

Smiling at the extended hand, Calypso quickly and shook it. “It's nice to meet you, I'm Harry's girlfriend, Calypso Rosier.”

Though it was slight, Harry noticed his mother stiffen slightly while his father's eyes narrowed and seemed to track Calypso's movements a bit more intently. Nathan simply paused, as if trying to place the name, before shrugging in an uncaring manner.

“Nice to meet you, too.” Gesturing to Calypso's rapidly disappearing injuries, he asked, “Did you at least win the fight?”

“They stunned us pretty quickly, but I think I would have won eventually. Kira's a coward, that's why she tried to curse me in the back.”

“Well, it's nice to officially meet you,” Sirius said, smiling at the girl. “Now that you've mastered English and all.”

“Nice to see you again, Mr. Black.” Calypso grinned. “Hope you didn't mind my little joke.”

Once again, Harry felt slightly uncomfortable. He'd mentioned that his father and Sirius liked to joke a few times to Calypso, and, not for the first time, he wondered just how carefully Calypso had planned meeting his family.

Sirius simply smirked. “I love jokes. Since you're such a fan, I'll be sure to show you a few of mine.”

Any awkward feelings Lily and James might have felt around Calypso were momentarily quelled at the thought of Sirius throwing low level jinxes at a guest. “Sirius Black,” Lily said sharply, “You will not do anything to Harry's friend while she's here, understood?”

“Not your fault you were taken for a sucker, Padfoot,” James said teasingly. “Why don't you have a seat, Calypso.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The group walked back to the living room where they all took seats around a small table. Harry couldn't help but notice that there was still a noticeable tension in the air, but before he could even begin to think how to start the conversation, Sirius spoke up.

“So, it feels like we've known you for some time. Harry here has told us stories since your first year.”

Calypso nodded. “Harry's been my best friend since first year.”

“How did you meet?” Lily asked, curiously, though not unfriendly.

“I saw him wandering around the library looking absolutely lost.” Calypso smiled in remembrance. “I helped him find a few books and we sort of started a study group soon after that.”

“Harry? Lost in a library?” Nathan laughed. “No way. He was right at home at Hogwarts.”

“It was my first week, and I was really busy.” Harry felt the need to defend himself slightly. “I had to learn an entire semester's worth of spell creation in less than a month. It was tough.”

“Well, thanks for keeping Harry's little head above water, Calypso,” Sirius said, doing his best to praise the girl.

Calypso sighed dramatically. “It was tough, Mr. Black. I still don't know what Harry would do without me. Likely fail out of school. Maybe take up conducting the Knight Bus.”

“Ha ha, Calypso” Harry said dryly.

“Oh relax, Harry,” James said, finding himself more and more comfortable around the girl. “We're just having a little fun.”

“Yeah, Harry. That's what it was when you were talking about Hermione, wasn't it?” Nathan said, clearly enjoying his brother's discomfort after their conversation earlier.

“Are you from England, Calypso?” Lily asked. “I wasn't aware that the Knight Bus ran internationally.”

“No ma'am, I was born in France, but I live with relatives in Scandinavia.” Calypso replied. “I stayed with my Uncle Lucius and Aunt Narcissa the summer after my first year. That's when I first heard of the Knight Bus.”

“The Malfoys are your Aunt and Uncle?” Nathan asked, recoiling slightly.

“Yes, though I haven't been invited back for any more 'etiquette' lessons from my Aunt Narcissa.” Calypso said easily. “I don't think they found my hexing Draco nearly as funny as I did.”

“You hexed Draco,” Nathan said, his entire demeanor changing. “Please, tell me everything!”

“Nathan,” Lily scolded before turning a slightly disapproving gaze at Calypso. “You really shouldn't hex anyone if it can be avoided.”

“I know ma'am,” Calypso said earnestly, “but he was unbearable. Every five seconds he would go on and on about how old his family's manor is. How rich his family is, or how they can trace their line nearly a millennium. Afterwards, he'd act like just because I was in his house, I was his servant or something. Trust me, the stinging hex to the face was well deserved.”

While Lily seemed to be doing her best to repress a smile, Sirius, and Nathan did little to hide their laughter.

“Oh, that's brilliant,” Nathan said. “I can't wait to tell Ron and Hermione. Draco's always going on about how 'uncouth' Hermione is just because she's Muggleborn.”

“So you live with relatives in Scandinavia?” James asked, seemingly bringing the conversation back. “What happened to your parents?”

For the first time, Calypso appeared slightly uncomfortable. “My mom died giving birth to me, and my father fought in the war here in England.”

Harry did his best to remain calm. He understood what Calypso was saying and what she wasn't. It was a risky move, and he was suddenly very glad he never mentioned Mr. Rosier to anyone.

“Oh,” Nathan said sympathetically. “Um, did the Death Eaters get him?”

“No Nathan,” Sirius said, speaking up softly. “I dare say that Calypso's father was done in by old Mad Eye Moody.”

“The Auror?” Nathan asked in confusion. “Why would he...” Nathan seemed to trail off until comprehension struck him. His eyes widened, and he looked at Calypso in shock. “I knew I remembered the name Rosier from somewhere! Your father was a Death Eater!”

Meeting Nathan's gaze evenly, Calypso said, “Yes.”

Once again, there was a tense and uncomfortable silence that seemed to drag on forever. Harry watched as his brother seemed to glance between Calypso and his parents as if wondering what to do.

“Don't judge Calypso because of her family, Nathan.” Sirius voice was uncommonly passionate and everyone found themselves looking at the last member of the house of Black. “People don't always grow up like their family, especially if they can get away from them. Almost all of my family consisted of the nastiest group of bastards you could ever meet, Nathan. That didn't stop your dad from giving me a chance, and there's no reason for you not to give Calypso the same one. Wouldn't you agree, James?”

Without the slightest hesitation, James met his best friend's gaze and said, “Absolutely. Sirius is right, Nathan. Don't judge Calypso just because her father did some bad things.”

“Besides,” Sirius said quickly continuing, “Do you really think your brother would befriend someone who sympathized with Death Eaters?”

Nathan turned his head to look at his brother. Frowningly slightly at the blank and empty look on Harry's face, Nathan said, “No, he wouldn't. Err... I'm sorry, Calypso. I didn't mean anything by it. I just... err... well, sorry.”

“It's alright,” Calypso said. “You don't really know me, so it's okay.”

“Well, that's why we're here,” Lily said smiling at the girl for the first time. “To get to know you a bit. So, tell us about yourself? What do you like most about Durmstrang?”

“And do you have any embarrassing stories about Harry?” Nathan asked eagerly.

Calypso laughed and smiled softly at Harry. “Did he ever tell you about the duck incident when he was first learning how to make a receptacle for the space enhancement charm?”

Harry felt his face suddenly pale. “Calypso, you and Viktor promised!”

“I believe that you told us to never mention it; however, I don't think we ever agreed to anything.”

Groaning, Harry sagged into his chair as Calypso began to tell the story. Glancing up, he couldn't help but notice the happy and grinning faces around the table. Compared to how the evening could have gone, a little embarrassment wasn't that bad.

“... and then the ducks just start to multiply, and Harry screams, 'Go get Professor Kosarev before they take over!'”

As his family roared with laughter, Harry momentarily met Calypso's eyes. While he felt a great deal of humor and amusement coming from her, there was one overwhelming emotion that dominated everything else. At first, Harry had a hard time placing it, but, eventually, he realized what it was.

Triumph.


	16. The Rising Storm

The Price of Victory  
Durmstrang, Aug. 25th

Walking down the boys' corridor, his trunk floating a few feet behind him, Harry shook his head in amusement when he saw Calypso sitting across from his room, a patient expression on her face.

“Waiting for me?”

Turning her head at the sound of his voice, Calypso playfully sighed at her boyfriend. “Why must you always arrive at the last possible minute? The first years have been here for almost six hours already, Potter. Is it impossible for you to get to school when the rest of us arrive?”

Harry looked at Calypso with a faux-baffled expression. “What's this? What happened to the sweet girl that met my family at the World Cup?”

Calypso's eyes gleamed. “Did I pass the Potter family inspection?”

“They liked you,” Harry said reassuringly as he unlocked his door. “Though I was a bit disturbed at times.”

“You didn't like me being nice?” Calypso asked, a little surprised.

“You weren't being yourself. Well,” he amended, “I guess you were, but it was just strange. You were trying to make my family like you so much, and while they didn't notice, it was obvious to me. Personally, I'll take the demanding, curse flinging Calypso over that one any day.”

Stepping forward, Calypso kissed Harry squarely on the lips. “You say the nicest things sometimes.”

“Why thank you, Ms. Rosier.” Stepping into his room, Harry said, “It was just a little odd, especially once I started thinking about it later. You found a way to connect well to each of my family members. How long have you been planning out your first meeting with my family?”

“For almost a year,” Calypso admitted. “I thought I was going to try and convince you to marry me, remember? I had no intention of having your family hate me.”

Harry snapped his head around to look intently at Calypso. “You thought you were? As in no longer?”

Calypso smiled brightly. “Yes, thought. My father told that me that he has no intention of offering a marriage contract for me to anyone, Harry. Don't worry about that. It's over.”

“Really?” Harry asked, incredibly relieved but a little surprised. “What about everything you said about being the last of your family? What about–”

“Father changed his mind,” Calypso said happily. “He didn't explain his reasoning to me, and I didn't ask. All that matters is it's over. You and, more importantly, I don't have to worry about it anymore.”

“Well, that's a bit of a relief,” Harry admitted. “I tried not to think about it, but it was always there in the back of my head.”

“It was worse for me. I've had a marriage contract hanging over me for years.” Calypso had a silly grin on her face as she walked around Harry, seemingly inspecting him. “I also see that you made it out of the World Cup unscathed. Were the idiots that donned Death Eater robes anywhere near you?”

“No, they were closer to the Irish tents. My parents went to help along with the Weasleys, but Nathan and I stayed inside.”

“Did the Aurors catch any of them?”

Before Harry could respond, there was a series of knocks against the door. With a wave of his wand, Harry opened the door, revealing a tired and frustrated Viktor Krum.

“Viktor,” Harry said pleasantly before noticing the expression on his friend's face. “What's wrong?”

“Krum has been instructed to enter the Tri-Wizard Tournament, even though he declined the invitation over the summer.”

Both Viktor and Harry turned to Calypso with varying expressions of disbelief.

“Really?” Harry asked in astonishment.

“How did you know that?” Viktor asked, surprised.

“My father found it particularly funny that you thought the Highmaster was going to accept you not coming to Hogwarts,” Calypso explained. “So, have you been convinced to attend the tournament?”

“Yes,” Viktor grumbled. “Apparently being the best Seeker at the World Cup is not enough for Quidditch teams anymore. They all want me to remain in the spotlight to boost exposure for the club, and the Tri-Wizard Tournament will be a huge European spectacle.”

“Isn't that counter intuitive?” Harry asked in confusion. “What if you are selected and get hurt? Your Quidditch career could be over.”

Viktor's scowl deepened. “That's what I said! But no, when I met with the teams I was interested in signing with, they all told me to compete. They even put special protections into the contract. If I get hurt during the tournament, they will honor my contract and then some. I just wanted to finish my last year and graduate! This stupid fucking tournament will be a pain the ass if I get selected.”

“Then don't go,” Harry said simply. “They can't force you.”

Viktor shook his head. “You don't understand, Harry. I have to attend.”

“Why?” Harry asked, still confused.

“The media,” Calypso said patiently. “Rumors of the tournament have started to build in a few circles. People who are 'in-the-know' are talking, and since Karkaroff made such a big deal about Viktor being a Durmstrang student, everyone expects him to be there. If he's not, people will ask questions. Karkaroff will lose face, Durmstrang will lose face, and if it should come out that Viktor didn't want to compete, they'll label him a coward.”

Viktor nodded solemnly. “It would be different if a club said they wouldn't let me compete. They won't though. They all want the publicity of signing Viktor Krum, Quidditch star and Tri-Wizard Tournament Champion.”

“Do you think you'll be picked?” Harry had to admit that Viktor, while still not an amazing wizard, had improved a lot of late. His physical skills were unmatched at Durmstrang, and his dueling was easily among the best in the school. Given his reputation internationally, the judge would have to give him some serious consideration.

“I don't know, perhaps,” Viktor said, clearly annoyed. “Hopefully, I'll be able to speak to the judge in private once we get to Hogwarts. I do not want to compete.”

“I do,” Harry said, beginning the wand movement for the Space Enhancement Charm. “I've worked too hard this summer not to win.”

Viktor and Calypso watched in awe as Harry casually began making massive alterations to his small spartan room. The walls blew outwards, expanding the room dramatically, while the ceiling vaulted upwards. The room seemed to rumble and shake as long cracks began splitting certain sections of the wall. The cracks seemed to stretch and warp the wall until large wooden doors sprang into existence.

With an intent look of concentration, Harry jabbed his wand forward, causing the nearest door to shudder in its frame as a room was formed behind it. Harry repeated the process with three other doors before beginning a very long and intricate wand movement. Eventually, a spell flew from Harry's wand and impacted the wall, causing the entire room to glow a soft blue for a moment.

Casting a quick finite, Harry relaxed when the room didn't immediately revert back to form. Lazily, he transfigured a nearby rickety chair into a medium size plush couch. Dropping into the couch, he silently conjured a chair next to Calypso before repeating the process for Viktor.

“You've improved a lot,” Calypso said, impressed.

Viktor nodded his head in agreement. “How long have you been able to do enchantments of this scale?”

Unable to hide his grin, Harry said, “Two days. It was the last thing I practiced before I left home. I messed around with my room quite a bit over the summer.”

Giving her boyfriend a very appraising look, Calypso asked, “Did you improve as much in the Dark Arts, or did you just focus on Transfiguration and Charms?”

A wolfish grin seemed to spread across Harry's face. “I practiced Charms, the Dark Arts, and Transfiguration every day. I did some stuff for Potions and Spell Creation as well, but not nearly as much.”

“We should have a practice duel.” Calypso glanced at her watch. “We have at least an hour before we need to head to the welcoming feast. That's more than enough time.”

Wanting to see just how much better he improved compared to Calypso, Harry immediately agreed. “Alright, where?”

“Father should be in his office for a while. We can use the dueling platform in the Dark Arts room. Viktor, do you want to officiate?”

“Very well,” Viktor said, reluctantly, “but no upper level Dark Arts.”

“Absolutely not,” Calypso said immediately. “That handicaps me too much. That's like asking Harry not to perform anything beyond fourth year Charms. How about nothing we can't provide an immediate counter-curse to correct?”

“I'll agree to that,” Harry said, cutting off Viktor's reply as the group left his room and walked downstairs towards the Dark Arts classroom. “But, nothing that can be lethal.”

“Agreed,” Calypso said, pushing the door to the Dark Arts classroom open and stepping inside.

“Can I help you, Calypso?” Professor Rosier said, surprising the group with his presence.

Calypso seemed to falter slightly. “Oh, father. Harry and I were just going to try to practice a little before the feast.”

“I see.” The Dark Arts professor's eyes were hard as he looked over the three three students. “Well, don't let me stop you.”

Walking over to a nearby desk, Professor Rosier took a seat and waited expectantly.

Turning to look at Harry, Calypso was a little relieved to see that her boyfriend still seemed comfortable having the duel. Together, the two of them walked onto the platform and took their positions.

Standing near the middle of the platform, Viktor said, “Bow.”

As one, Harry and Calypso bowed deeply at one another before slowly rising up and taking their stances.

“Begin!” Viktor said, forgoing the traditional countdown.

Flicking his wand, Harry sent a pair of fireballs at Calypso.

Rather than trying to avoid the flame, Calypso simply let the fire impact the anti-flame spells on her robes. Responding immediately, Calypso entered into a simple spell-chain, sending a bludgeoning curse, knee-inverting hex, and concussion curse at Harry.

Side-stepping the bludgeoning curse, Harry casually slapped the knee-inverting hex away as the concussion curse flew slightly wide to his left. Twisting his wand, Harry summoned a desk from the classroom and banished it at Calypso.

Unable to dodge the desk, Calypso launched into a series of explosive spells, just narrowly managing to destroy it. As she turned her attention back to Harry, she was forced to duck in order to avoid a stunning spell. Dropping into a roll, Calypso recovered quickly and fired a heart-skipping hex.

Calypso watched as her spell literally flew through Harry, causing his form to shimmer slightly before vanishing. Realizing she'd been fooled by an illusion, Calypso had just enough to time to raise her wand, an area-affect spell at the tip of her tongue, before a stunner caught her in the head, knocking her out.

Dropping the disillusionment charm, Harry appeared a few feet to Calypso's right.

“Winner.” Viktor said unnecessarily.

“Decent.” Professor Rosier said, waving his wand to wake his daughter up.

Groaning, Calypso turned an accusatory stare at her boyfriend. “I see you got the projection spell to work. I thought you said you were having problems with illusions?”

“Illusions are tricky” Harry admitted. “They're actually a lot more like Transfiguration than Charms. Your wand work and emotions are not as important as a clear mental picture of the image you want to project. Once I realized that, my illusions became much more defined and easier to cast.”

“Take your positions again,” Professor Rosier said, causing Harry and Calypso to look at him. “Only this time, you are both restricted using offensive hexes and curses.”

Both Calypso and Harry looked warily at each other as they slowly took their starting positions. This wasn't going to be a duel of finesse. There wouldn't be any illusions, Transfigurations, or fancy wand work. No, this duel was about one thing. Dark Magic.

There was an almost tangible sense of anticipation as Harry and Calypso bowed to one another.

“Begin!”

Slashing his wand across his body, Harry sent a gauging curse at Calypso, who was caught momentarily flatfooted by Harry opening with a reasonably dangerous dark spell. As Calypso twisted her body out of the way of the spell, Harry – hoping to end the duel before Calypso could get comfortable – immediately followed his curse with a pain spell he'd learned over the summer called Vulcan's Hammer.

Slightly off balance from dodging Harry's opening spell, Calypso couldn't avoid his fast follow up. The curse stuck her square in the leg, sending her flying back a few feet and hitting the platform. By the time she hit the ground, Calypso's left leg felt as if it was being crushed, reformed, and then bludgeoned repeatedly.

Even as she screamed from the pain, Calypso felt a rush of humiliation overwhelm her. While she always acknowledged that Harry was an exceptionally talented wizard, he had always fallen just shy of her as a duelist. Intellectually, Calypso always suspected that if Harry committed himself to the Dark Arts like he did Charms or Transfiguration, he could become a true force, but this was the first time she'd truly seen him attack without the slightest hesitation.

Still, never in her wildest dreams did she think he could so casually swat her aside twice in a row, especially not in a duel when he couldn't use his best two subjects.

In the end, it was pride that gave Calypso enough focus to push aside the agonizing pain that had begun spreading up her leg and into her hip. She'd worked hard for years establishing herself as one of the most dangerous duelists at Durmstrang, and no one would dismiss her so easily!

Forcibly throwing herself to the side, she narrowly avoided Harry's finishing stunner. Using Occlumency to gather the abundance of anger, pain, and embarrassment she was feeling, Calypso released a blast of purple fire from her wand.

Recognizing the spell as the organ rupturing curse, Harry desperately cast Protego. Jerking back slightly, Harry felt his shield buckle, barely holding up against the might of Calypso's powerful curse. Unfortunately, Calypso wasn't close to finished, and Harry's shield was blown apart by a bludgeoning curse.

With no shield, Harry had to jump suddenly to the right to avoid a powerful laceration curse. Unfortunately, his movement forced him right into the path of a punching hex. His head snapping back as the spell struck him, the force of the hex dropped Harry to the ground, shaken.

Unable to breathe properly from his nose, Harry felt a trail of blood running down his face. Glancing up at Calypso, Harry saw that his girlfriend was frantically using the lull in action to cast the counter-curse to Vulcan's Hammer.

Calypso's face was drenched with sweat, and while her expression gave little away, the muffled sobs and tears running down her face showed just how much pain she was suffering. With a single look at her left leg, Harry could see the blue spider-web like lines running down it, indicating what part of the body was being effected by his curse. Given the amount of time, the spell had probably spread throughout her body by now.

Forcing himself to clear his mind, Harry pushed aside the slight guilt he felt at hurting Calypso. Hoping to end the duel while Calypso was distracted, Harry fired off a retching hex, closely followed by a stunner and a laceration curse.

Finishing the counter to Vulcan's Hammer, Calypso frantically defected the retching hex and stunner, but she was half a second too slow blocking the laceration curse.

“Fuck,” she screamed as her forearm split open, sending a slight spray of blood across the platform. Enraged, Calypso viciously jabbed her wand at Harry. Immediately, a bright orange and yellow spell seemed to explode out of Calypso's wand, closing the distance quicker than Harry could believe possible.

With no time to shield, Harry desperately tried to dodge the spell, only for it to clip him in the left shoulder.

When the curse impacted, Harry felt his skin burn violently as massive cuts and tears began to appear at random across his body. Suddenly, the tears seemed to dig into his muscles before slicing apart the skin all over his body.

As the flesh around his groin and face began to twist and split open, Harry screamed in pain and dropped to his knees. Instinctively, he completed the wand movement for his bludgeoning curse, and, channeling all the pain he was feeling, fired it at Calypso, who was so surprised that Harry was still actively dueling that she took the spell directly in the chest.

There was an audible crunch as Calypso's sternum was crushed under the impact of the powerful bludgeoner, and her body was thrown across the platform. Lying on the ground, Calypso opened her mouth to cry out in pain, only to discover that she couldn't inhale any air into her lungs. Unable to breathe, Calypso began hysterically grasping at her chest and desperately trying to signal for help.

Within seconds Viktor rushed onto the platform, looking in horror between the two battered fourth years. From what he could see, the curse affecting Harry's body was still active. His face, arms, and neck were now completely mutilated, and, given the noticeable blood stains seeping throughout his clothing, the rest of his body probably looked similar.

As bad as Harry looked, Calypso was the one in more danger. The girl's eyes were starting to glaze as her struggles slowed and her face began to turn blue from a lack of oxygen. Pointing his wand at Calypso, Viktor prepared to cast the emergency healing charms his Quidditch coaches had taught him, only to be shoved aside.

“Out of the way, Krum,” Professor Rosier spat. A waive of his wand was all that was needed to stop Harry's body from continuing to tear itself apart, although it did nothing for his appearance. Before Harry's screams had slowed one iota, the professor was at his daughter's side casting a series of healing Charms at her chest.

After almost a minute, Professor Rosier helped his daughter to her feet, although the way Calypso was swaying slightly from side to side revealed just how injured she remained.

Glancing between the badly injured duelists, Professor Rosier favored the two with a proud smile. “Well done, both of you. Krum, escort Mr. Potter and my daughter to the hospital wing, I dare say that both of them will not be attending the feast tonight.”

Viktor could only nod as he helped Harry stand up, the butchered flesh around Harry's hand caused Viktor to wince in sympathy. As the three of them left the room, Viktor tried to remain calm, but, eventually, he couldn't contain himself.

“What is wrong with you two?” he demanded, looking at the two fourth years as though they were mad. “Were you trying to kill each other?”

“No,” Harry and Calypso both replied softly.

“Then what the fuck were you thinking?” Viktor spat, spittle flying from his mouth. All around them, passing students gave the group a wide birth. The sight of a mangled Harry Potter, an obviously injured Calypso Rosier, and an enraged Viktor Krum was more than enough to keep their curiosity at bay.

“Wanted to win,” Harry virtually whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “Might have let things get a bit out of hand.”

Viktor could only stare incredulously at his friend. “A bit!”

Wincing with every step he took, Harry turned to look at Calypso. “What spell did you hit me with?”

“Skin-shredding curse,” Calypso said weakly, the act of talking causing her chest to ache in pain. “It's one of my finishing spells.” Looking at Harry in sympathy, Calypso said, “I've never seen anyone manage to send a spell after being hit by it.”

Glancing at his tattered arms and hands, and knowing that the rest of his body probably looked the same, Harry didn't doubt that people tended to stay down after being hit by the curse. “Does it hurt to regrow skin?”

“No,” Calypso said reassuringly, “it's just like a burn salve. You'll be fine in a few hours. That bludgeoning curse at the end. Wow.”

“I had a lot of motivation to make that spell hurt,” Harry said, his body growing more and more exhausted with every step he took. “It felt like my body was being set on fire and put through a meat grinder.”

“You're both insane.” Viktor snapped. “It was a practice duel. For fun. I expected this shit from you, Rosier, but you were the one that set the tone of that duel, Harry! You practically opened with Vulcan's fucking Hammer. Where did you even learn that? It was one of the last spells introduced in my Dark Arts class last year.”

Thinking of the gleeful expression on Kreacher's face when Harry accepted the book on pain curses the elf suggested, Harry said, “It was in a book someone recommend to me.”

“Of course it was,” Viktor said, looking disapprovingly at Calypso. Pushing open the hospital wing's doors, Viktor strode in angrily. “Lady Shluga! I have two fools that need immediate assistance!”

The large Norwegian nurse came out of her office, took one look at Harry and Calypso and gasped. “Merciful Gods, what happened?”

“Practice duel,” Viktor spat disgustedly as Lady Shluga led the two grievously injured patients into a pair of open beds.

“Don't move, either of you.” The matron's eyes were hard and very angry as she began casting diagnostic spells on her two charges. Shaking her head in disgust, she said, “Ms. Rosier, you have two broken ribs, a cracked sternum, and your appendix has ruptured. Congratulations, you'll be here for the night. Mr. Potter, you're not much better. I'm going to need to vanish your clothes and apply some skin-salve across most your body.”

The Matron seemed to look Viktor up and down. “Are you injured as well, Mr. Krum?”

“No, ma'am. I'm not. They were the ones dueling.”

“Then at least one of you has a shred of common sense. Maybe next time you could actually stop your friends before they end up under my care. I can't believe the semester hasn't even started yet, and I'm tending to curse wounds. Just wonderful.”

As Lady Shluga went to get whatever potions she needed, Viktor looked once more at Harry and Calypso. “The both of you are absolutely insane! Is this stupid tournament really worth this much to you?”

His face burning from the tears that had fallen onto his exposed flesh, Harry proudly raised his head to look his friend. “This and so much more, Viktor.”

Seeing the same determination echoed on Calypso's face, Viktor solemnly nodded his head in understand. He, more than anyone, knew that some things were worth the sacrifices. Still, seeing Harry and Calypso throwing seriously dangerous dark magic at one another was not something he cared to witness ever again.

“Then I wish you the best of luck.” Viktor shook his head in disgust. “Never ask me to officiate a duel between the two of you ever again.”

Without another word, Viktor turned around and left the Hospital wing. The last thing he heard before reaching the doors was Harry tiredly asking Calypso for instructions on how to properly cast the Skin-Shredding curse.

ooo0000ooo

  
Meet the Competition  
Main Hall, Durmstrang, Sept. 3rd

Harry watched the other students intently, they were his competition. The very best Durmstrang had to offer.

He, like the thirty-nine others, had been asked to attend an information session about the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Of all the students, only Harry and Calypso were fourth years. There were a pair of dark-skinned twins representing the fifth years, but everyone else was either a sixth or seventh year.

Glancing around the room, Harry could tell that he and Calypso were not particularly welcome, though no one seemed ready to actually object to their presence. Harry's academic achievements in several advanced classes more than earned him the grudging acceptance from the upper years while Calypso was a frighteningly proficient duelist and Professor Rosier's daughter.

For once, Harry found himself a little upset that he hadn't spent much time socializing outside of his personal clique. While he knew a few of the sixth years from class, the seventh years were almost a complete mystery to him. There were a few whom he recognized by appearance, but he hadn't the foggiest clue where their talents lay.

“So this is it, huh?” Calypso looked around at the various students and seemed to dismiss many of them with a glance.

“Not impressed?” Harry asked, hoping his girlfriend could provide some insight into the competition.

Calypso snorted. “Let's just say, the crop of students for the Tournament doesn't look very strong.” Nodding her head at a surly looking seventh year girl, Calypso said, “Besides Krum, Deidre over there is probably the only seventh year worth mentioning. She's a talented enough duelist, and her Charms work is stupendous.”

“Can't Transfigure anything to save her life though,” Krum said, joining the two fourth years, Kira trailing behind him. “She failed the course for the second time in her fourth year and wasn't given the chance to continue it.”

“She's in my Potions class,” Harry said, recognizing the girl. “Professor Kral didn't seem to like her. I always thought she was a sixth year.”

“Hardly.” Kira scoffed. “She's dating that fool Poliakoff. I have no idea why he got an invitation.”

“He finished Transfiguration and Potions last year,” Viktor supplied. “Pretty much average in everything else, though I heard Deidre had to help him a lot to pass Charms last year.”

Calypso laughed quietly. “He is a truly pathetic duelist. Father failed him last year and wouldn't let him continue. Said Poliakoff's final project was a joke, and that he couldn't cast a quarter of the spells on the fifth year's list.”

Idly, Harry couldn't help but compare himself to each of the students. If what Viktor, Calypso, and Kira said was accurate, he might have a very real chance at getting the Durmstrang nomination. While a few students might be more advanced than him in some classes, overall, it sounded like he was the more competent wizard. In fact, Harry had to admit that Kira and Viktor might be some of his toughest competition.

Glancing over at Kira, he found the girl staring back at him. Harry was tempted to reach out with Legilimency to see just what she was thinking, but he wasn't sure how much Kira had advanced her mind magic.

Before Harry could decide if it was worth testing just how much he'd improved his Legilimency, the door behind the high table opened, revealing the Highmaster, Professor Rosemburg, Professor Kosarev, and Professor Rosier.

“Please, be seated,” Karkaroff said, pausing as everyone sat at the various tables.

“Before we begin, I want to commend each and every one of you.” Karkaroff seemed to appraise the students with a great deal of pride. “You are the very best of Durmstrang, and the work you have put into your studies is exemplary. I have no doubt that each one of you have worked with even greater enthusiasm this summer so that you might earn the honor of representing Durmstrang in the Tri-Wizard Tournament.”

Karkaroff's demeanor shifted slightly and his eyes found Harry. “Unfortunately, while you are all deserving, there has been an unforeseen complication. As you all know, the negotiations for the Tournament continued well into the summer, concluding only a week before the term began. It has since been decided that only those over the age of 17 will be eligible to compete.”

“What!” Harry snapped out angrily before he could stop himself.

The entire room seemed to turn to stare at him, and Harry struggled to contain his raging emotions. With painstaking care, he pushed his anger aside. “I apologize for the interruption, Highmaster.”

Karkaroff nodded, though he looked decidedly unhappy. “While your manners could use some work, Mr. Potter, I share your sentiment. Know that Durmstrang argued vehemently against the restriction; however, we were outvoted by both Hogwarts and Beauxbatons. As unfortunate as the situation is, I must ask that everyone who will be under the age of seventeen by October 31st to depart this meeting.”

Harry was the first person to stand up, magic practically radiating off of him. He never noticed the weary looks some of the students were sending him as he started to storm out of the Main Hall, and even if he had, he wouldn't have cared.

“Mr. Krum!” Karkaroff called out, sharply. “Just where do you think you are going?”

Turning around, Harry was surprised to see that Viktor, along with Calypso and a dozen other students, had gotten up and begun following him out.

“I apologize, Highmaster,” Viktor's voice was hard and determined, “but any tournament that will not admit my friend, a friend that is a far more skilled wizard than I, is not one I wish to participate.”

Harry couldn't help but stare at his first real friend with a profound sense of pride and gratefulness.

“Mr. Krum!”

Ignoring the Highmaster, Viktor strode over to Harry, who quickly turned on his heel and walked out of the Main Hall.

Once they had cleared the doors, Harry said, “Thank you, Viktor, it means a lot.”

Viktor looked torn before he said, “To be honest, I didn't really do it for you, Harry. You know I don't want to compete in this tournament. By denying you a spot in the delegation, they gave me an excuse to protest the tournament. When the press report on my lack of appearance, I will not be painted as a coward, but rather as someone standing up for a friend. Though I am truly sorry, Harry. I know how much you wanted to compete.”

Sensing nothing but truth from Viktor, Harry shook his head ruefully. “I worked every day, Viktor. I practiced every fucking day, even on my birthday. I feel cheated. Just because the younger students at Hogwarts and Beauxbatons are useless doesn't mean it's that way at Durmstrang.”

“You should write to Dumbledore,” Calypso said, catching up to Harry and Viktor. “Maybe you can convince him to grant an exception.”

Harry shook his head as the three of them walked upstairs. “Dumbledore won't do that. Trust me, if he gave me an exception, then everyone would scream favoritism.”

“It couldn't hurt to try, Harry,” Viktor said, trying to be supportive.

“Mr. Potter!”

Turning around, Harry saw Professor Kosarev walking up the stairs.

“Yes, sir?”

“The Highmaster asks that you wait for him in his office.” Kosarev looked slightly smug. “He will be with you as soon as the meeting in the Main Hall is over.”

“We'll be in Grindelwald's room,” Calypso said after sharing a look with Viktor. “Have a good meeting.”

Harry nodded his head as Viktor and Calypso continued walking up the stairs to the fourth floor.

“Do you know why the Highmaster wants to speak with me, sir?” Harry asked as Professor Kosarev led him down the stairs and to the Highmaster's office.

Kosarev chuckled. “Surely it's obvious, Mr. Potter? The Highmaster wishes to speak to you about Mr. Krum's decision not to compete.” Stopping outside two large double doors with the golden crest of Durmstrang above them, Kosarev paused and favored Harry with a slight grin. “Three dragons fly west.”

“Why am I here if the Highmaster wants to talk with Viktor?” Harry asked.

“Mr. Krum has been looking for an excuse to get out of attending this tournament for some time,” Kosarev said. “The Highmaster obviously thinks he has a much better chance of convincing you than he does Mr. Krum.”

Harry scowled as he took a seat in front of the Highmaster's desk. “Why should I do that? Viktor doesn't want to compete, and I'd rather have my friend around at Durmstrang than away at Hogwarts without me.”

“The Highmaster is a powerful man, Mr. Potter,” Kosarev warned. “It would be wise of you not to dismiss him so casually when he arrives here.”

“I'll listen to what he says, sir, but there's only one thing I want.” Doing his best to remain calm, Harry said, “I worked too hard not to go to Hogwarts, sir.”

“So have many, Mr. Potter,” The Highmaster snapped, entering his office and closing the door sharply behind him. Dismissing Professor Kosarev with a look, Karkaroff sat behind his desk imperiously. “Have you enjoyed your time at Durmstrang, Mr. Potter?”

Harry did his best to remain calm. He knew the Highmaster could make his remaining time at Durmstrang difficult, but he was determined to get what he wanted. “I have, sir.”

“And you wouldn't wish to do anything to hurt Durmstrang's reputation, would you?”

“I would always try to act in Durmstrang's best interest, sir,” Harry said honestly.

Karkaroff beamed. “Excellent. Then you will convince Mr. Krum to stop this silly protest and take his rightful spot amongst the delegation.”

“I'm sorry, sir, but I'm not sure I can do that,” Harry said tensely. “Viktor has no interest in going to Hogwarts.”

“As I am well aware,” Karkaroff spat, dropping all false pleasantries. “However, it is best for Durmstrang that Mr. Krum go to Hogwarts for the tournament.”

“With all due respect, sir,” Harry countered, “I believe having me go to Hogwarts for the tournament is what's best for Durmstrang.”

Karkaroff narrowed his eyes. “That is exceptionally arrogant of you, Mr. Potter.”

“Yes, sir, it is.” Harry admitted. “It doesn't change the fact that I believe it to be true.”

Karkaroff leaned back into his seat. Much to Harry's surprise, the man did not grow angry. Instead he seemed to think very hard about something. Eventually, he said, “I am magically bound not to aid any student under the age of seventeen enter the tournament. Dumbledore was insistent about this point.”

“Sir, maybe you could just let me accompany the delegation to Hogwarts?” Harry asked slowly. “Officially, you wouldn't be helping me enter the tournament, just allowing me to spend the year with my brother. Would it be possible to convince the judge on my own that I should represent Durmstrang? Would they listen to me if I spoke to them privately?”

“Dumbledore is like a grandfather to me, sir.” Sitting up in his seat, Harry tried to sound convincing. “Put me in the Durmstrang delegation, and give me a chance to talk with him.”

For the first time, Karkaroff seemed to consider what Harry said, a slow smile creeping across his face. “The judge would be very amicable if you were able to reach it.”

“It?” Harry asked, confused.

“I cannot say more.” Karkaroff's tone brokered no arguments. “I am unable to reveal certain secrets about the tournament; however... this oath allows for certain slips of the tongue. Still, Dumbledore will not make it easy for you. The man was emphatic about establishing an age limit. And while I have little love for Albus Dumbledore, you would have to be a fool to take him lightly.”

“Sir, if you want Viktor in the Durmstrang delegation, I need to be also. Even now, Viktor is probably writing a press release or owling his publicists to explain why he won't attend the Tri-Wizard Tournament.”

Thinking hard, Karkaroff finally said, “You can have a spot in the delegation, but, officially, you are not there to enter the tournament, agreed?”

Not entirely happy, but glad that he still had a chance to enter, Harry said, “Yes, sir.”

“This is all contingent on Viktor attending.” Karkaroff said. “If Krum doesn't go to Hogwarts, neither do you.”

“I understand, sir.”

“Then go,” Karkaroff said dismissively.

Standing up, Harry was about to walk out of the room when he felt a foreign flash of amusement in his mind. Turning his head sharply to the left, he found himself staring at a large bookcase. Extending his hand, Harry took a tentative half-step towards the bookcase.

“Potter!” Karkaroff snapped. “Go! I won't have Krum announcing he's not participating in the tournament. Get out!”

“Sorry, sir.” Turning away from the bookshelf, Harry quickly left the office.

Removing his invisibility cloak, Romulus Rosier's eyes lingered on the Highmaster's door. “The boy is quite talented.”

“Now you think he's talented!” Karkaroff tossed his hands up incredulously. “You were the one who convinced me to agree to Dumbledore's stupid age limit. What do you want Romulus? Don't think I didn't know you followed me from the Main Hall!”

“Calypso will be a part of the Durmstrang delegation.”

“And why should I do that?” Karkaroff asked, angrily. “Potter coming ensures Krum will be there. Why should I risk damage to my magic just so your daughter can tag along with Potter?”

Romulus' eyes hardened. “Because if Calypso does not go to Hogwarts, you might find some of our compatriots in England awfully interested in knowing how to bypass the Durmstrang ship's wards, specifically those on your personal quarters. How many attempts have been made on your life over the years, Igor? How many times have I warned you about Lucius' plots or Thorfinn's assassins?”

“Get out.” Karkaroff whispered, his face growing pale.

“Do not cross me, traitor.” Romulus slammed his fists on Karkaroff's desk, causing the man to instinctively step back. “If you do not admit Calypso to the delegation, you will find that not even the fabled wards of Durmstrang will protect you.”

“GET OUT!”

Knowing that his point had been made, Romulus threw some powder into a nearby fireplace. “My office!”

ooo0000ooo

  
Welcome to Warding  
Professor Kosarev's Office, Sept 9th

“Come in.”

Pushing the door open, Harry Potter walked briskly into his professor's office, a contemplative look on his face.

“Have a seat, Mr. Potter. Would you care for something to drink before we begin?” Kosarev asked, pleasantly.

“No thank you, sir.” Taking a seat in front of his professor, Harry withdrew his wand and waited patiently.

Kosarev nodded. “Very well. First, what do you know about warding?”

“Very little,” Harry admitted. “I was rather busy studying the magic you suggested over the summer, and you recommended I not look into warding without discussing it with you first.”

“Good,” Kosarev said, sounding very pleased. “You will find, Mr. Potter, that most books have their own theories and ideas about what warding is and how to accomplish it. If you have read ahead, I might have to beat the wrong assumptions out of your head, and that would take time we really do not posses.”

“Warding is a very intricate – some would say delicate – form of magic. It requires a very keen and patient mind to successfully cast a ward. The opposite, of course, is true for curse or ward breaking. Strength of will and brute force can often be the most efficient means to tear down a ward, provided you can muster the power and intent behind the spell to over-power the intent behind the ward.”

“But we are drifting away from the main point of the lesson, aren't we?” Kosarev asked rhetorically. “I suppose the first thing you must learn about wards is what they are and what they do. A ward is simply an enchantment that is placed on an object, building, person, area, etc. They have different effects, to redirect, confuse, befuddle, protect..., you get the point. In all likelihood you've already mastered spells that do similar things. Can you think of any such spells, Mr. Potter?”

“The Protego charm,” Harry said. “It protects a person for a brief period of time.”

“Excellent,” Professor Kosarev said, “Yes, the shield charm is remarkably similar to a protective ward. In fact, it might be best if we use another example so that I don't confuse you. The shield charm shares numerous similarities to protective wards. Tell me, Mr. Potter, what is the difference between say a Notice-Me-Not charm and an aversion ward?”

“The way the spells work?” Harry ventured a guess. “A Notice-Me-Not Charm causes someone to avoid noticing an area while an aversion ward makes someone not want to be there.

Kosarev smiled. “True. However, not quite what I was looking for. The primary difference, Mr. Potter, is in the duration and the adaptability of the aversion ward compared to the Notice-Me-Not Charm. You see, Mr. Potter, a ward is a permanent enchantment that must be broken down to cancel its effect. A simple finite can cancel a Notice-Me-Not charm.”

“But the shield charm has to be broken down,” Harry said. “Does that mean it's a ward?”

“The shield charm is not technically considered a ward since it is not an enchantment. Should you enchant a basic shield charm onto something, then it would become one of the most basic protective wards; however, you'll find that simple Protego wards are very uncommon.”

“Why's that, sir?” Harry asked, curiously.

“There are a series of protective wards that are much more effective, and not much more difficult to cast. The most common shield spell to protect buildings or a group of people is Protego Horribilis. Like the standard shield charm it can be cast by someone as both a charm and a ward; however, it requires a bit more force of will to cast than your standard Protego. ”

“Is the wand movement similar to Protego?” Harry asked. A more powerful shield charm or protective ward would be a huge advantage in the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

“Itching to try the spell?” Kosarev asked knowingly. “The wand movement is considerably longer, which is why the spell is not used frequently in duels.” Demonstrating the wand movement for his student, Professor Kosarev said, “If you wish to practice it, please do so on your own time. We have much more to cover today.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said, committing the wand movement to memory before giving his professor his undivided attention.

“While Protego Horribilis can be cast by one person, some wards cannot.” Professor Kosarev looked sternly at Harry before saying, “Nor should they be attempted alone. While there are not many of these spells, they require a great deal of combined intent to cast successfully, though there have been a few exceptions to this rule.”

“Exceptions?”

“Yes,” Kosarev's tone grew dark. “The Dark Lord Grindelwald was the first modern wizard able to cast such wards by himself. It was one of the reasons why he remained at large for so long. I remember a story I heard from an old Polish Auror once about a secret mission back in the very early days of Grindelwald's rise. An elite group of Aurors from a half a dozen countries were assembled to take out Grindelwald. They had his location, and they knew he would be alone. What none of them could anticipate was that Grindelwald could cast protection wards effortlessly. When they attacked, he was able to create the wards faster then the Auror team could break them down. Grindelwald then struck out from behind his wards, decimating his attackers.”

Shaking his head, Kosarev said, “There are others who have since been able to cast such magic, though they are extremely rare. In ancient history it's said that the great Greek Gods of old, and the first Pharaoh of the united Egypt could also cast such magic, though there's no real historical proof of that.”

“But it can be done?” Seeing his professor's stern gaze, Harry quickly added, “I'm not going to attempt it, sir. I promise.”

“Good. Yes, it can be done, but let's not focus on these exceptions, Mr. Potter. As I said, this kind of warding is very powerful. Such spells include Protego Maxima, the most powerful shield spell.”

“So would a Notice-Me-Not enchantment be considered a ward?” Harry asked.

“Yes, Mr. Potter, that would be considered a type of ward, though a reasonably simple one,” Kosarev explained. “A more elaborate type of Notice-Me-Not ward would be one that blocks only certain people from noticing what the ward is hiding. These wards can be very simple, such as the Muggle-Repelling Wards, or extremely complex.”

Harry frowned “What determines the complexity? The size of the group you're trying to block?”

“It varies. If there is some easily defined characteristic about the group, the ward can be relatively easy to cast; however, if you are trying to key the ward to a diverse group that have few commonalities, it will be much more difficult. In such difficult cases, a key can be used to allow certain people access.” Kosarev frowned again. “While it pains me to bring up Grindelwald again, the man was infamous for keying many of his wards. He tied his wards to his mark, which he placed on a few select followers' clothing. He ultimately reversed this approach after a few nations caught on and managed to capture some of his higher ranking lieutenants.”

“Why didn't he ensure the mark couldn't be used by someone else?” Harry asked.

“He only keyed a few of his best and most loyal people, and I doubt he thought they'd be captured alive. Perhaps he was working on a permanent fix for the problem, but, fortunately, the war took a shift and his attention was required elsewhere. Thankfully, he stopped his research before figuring out how to fix the problem.”

Growing more and more intrigued as his professor spoke, Harry eventually said, “Sir, what are the best spells to start learning wards?”

“I would suggest you begin your focus on area affecting wards. These are fairly easy spells that simply stop, alert, or protect something from everyone. Do remember to exclude yourself though.” Kosarev chuckled. “Otherwise, you might find yourself having to break down your own ward.”

“Do you have a book of area affecting wards?”

“No, no, no,” Kosarve said, waiving his student off. “Write these spells down. They are fairly simple, yet highly effective. The anti-disapparition ward – I want you to learn the enchantment, Mr. Potter, not the jinx. It's quite pathetic how most people simply use the jinx these days. You might as well include the anti-apparition ward as well. As far as protective wards, learn cave inimicum, protego horribilis, protego totalum. It might be difficult for you to tell just how effective some of those wards are, given that Durmstrang is a very protected area, but if you practice far enough away from the castle, you should be alright.”

Harry nodded as he wrote the last of the spells down on a piece of parchment. “And when I master those spells?”

Kosarev chuckled. “Come back and I'll give you a few more. Trust me, Harry, there are many different types of wards all with different and varying effects.”

“Thank you, sir,” Harry said gratefully before pausing. “Sir, I heard you're not going to Hogwarts.”

Professor Kosarev frowned. “No, I am not. The Highmaster will be going with an aide while the rest of us teachers remain.”

“Sir, if I'm named champion, will you still be able to give me assistance?” Harry asked.

“Mr. Potter, rules were made with exceptions.” Kosarev grinned. “While I would be forbidden from helping you with the tournament, should you reach out to me seeking advice regarding a final project, I would be able to assist you.”

“I thought the champion was excused from submitting a final project?”

“They are optional, Mr. Potter,” Kosarev seemed to wink slightly before saying, “and I'm certain that a dedicated student, such as yourself, would not let some silly little tournament get in the way of a final project. Now, whether you have the time to complete said project or not, well that's another matter entirely. You could simply under-estimate the amount of free time you'd have to work on it. In all likelihood, you might not know if you can complete the project until... well right until the start of the final task.”

His eyes lighting up in understanding, Harry stood up and said, “Thank you, sir.”

“Before you go,” Professor Kosarev said, causing Harry to drop back into his seat, “I never did find out how far you progressed over the summer with the list I gave you.”

Harry frowned slightly. “I think I did fairly well, sir. I've managed most of the illusions you gave me, and I practiced several of the more advanced area-affecting spells, though I found the weather spells somewhat difficult to manage.”

“Yes, weather spells are notoriously finicky, even for the most skilled wizards.” Kosarev agreed. “Did you try any of the higher level charms?”

“Aqua Eructo.”

Kosarev's seemed to brighten considerably. “Really? And how did you manage it?”

“Not well,” Harry said, a little bitterly. “I practiced it a bit before deciding to focus on enchantments for rest of the summer. I nearly drowned myself the first time I cast the spell.”

“Yes, that can happen,” Kosarev said dismissively. “Did you see any improvement? Aqua Eructo is among the most difficult Charms you will learn here at Durmstrang. I assure you, there might only be one or two seventh years that are capable of casting it properly.”

“I improved a bit, I could force water to stop coming from my wand at will, but the best I was ever able to do was hold the water back and cancel the charm,” Harry scowled slightly. “I wasn't able to control it. Just hold my ground, maintain it, and end the spell.”

“That is still a very impressive feat, Mr. Potter.” Kosarev seemed to consider Harry a bit. “I'll be honest, Mr. Potter, you've just scrapped the surface of what Aqua Eructo is capable of. It is a truly formidible charm in the hands of a skilled wizard, and while some intermediate warding would be a good final project, control of Aqua Eructo would be equally impressive. I suggest you continue to practice both extensively.”

“I plan on it, sir,” Harry replied.

Professor Kosarev looked very pleased. “I'm glad to hear that, Harry. Tell me, have you given much thought to what you wish to do after you graduate?”

“Honestly, no, sir. I haven't really considered it.”

“Perhaps you should begin thinking about it, Mr. Potter,” Kosarev said seriously. “While career advice is typically given during one's fifth year, given your abilities, I have no doubt that several Ministries and private groups will vie for your service. If you don't mind me asking, how are your family's finances?”

“I-I don't really know, sir,” Harry admitted. “I mean, my mum and dad have always been able to give my brother and I whatever we need. Our Gringotts account isn't huge, but I think we're okay. I know mum works in Potions research because she likes it, not because we need the money.”

“Then, perhaps you might consider an alternate path. I do believe we spoke long ago about how wizards used to travel extensively after graduating. Would you ever consider traveling abroad after graduation?”

Harry brightened considerably. “I remember, sir. Though didn't you say it has a rather dark reputation?”

“Only from the narrow-minded and overly possessive ministries.” Kosarev scowled. “I assure you, Harry, the academic community would hardly judge you. Besides, given your family's name and reputation, perhaps you might be able to correct that stigma. A few extra years to explore magic might do you some good, especially if you are uncertain what you want to do. I would hate to see such potential locked into a career you dislike simply because you signed a binding contract with the Goblins or a Ministry.”

Harry found himself nodding, easily agreeing with what his professor said. “I'll think about it, sir. Thank you for your advice.”

“You're most welcome, Mr. Potter. Do have a good day, and keep me up-to-date with your progress on those wards.”

As he left Professor Kosarev's office, Harry couldn't help but admit the thought of traveling after he graduated sounded very interesting.

ooo0000ooo

Mistrial  
Durmstrang, Sept 22nd

The sound of owls entering the Main Hall was not a new one. A massive burst of fire directly above the high table, immediately followed by the beautiful and heart-lifting Phoenix song, was something unique.

The entire hall watched, completely captivated, as the phoenix appeared. The magnificent creature erupted out of a fireball and started to circle high in the rafters. After a solid minute, the fire bird seemed content that it had properly announced itself, and it glided down, coming to rest on Harry's shoulder.

“Hello, Fawkes.” Harry beamed at his Grandfather's long time companion. Taking a piece of sausage from his plate, he offered it up to the bird. “Hungry?”

The Phoenix seemed to inspect the meat before opening his mouth and gobbling it down.

“Magnificent,” Viktor said in awe, his eyes never leaving Fawkes. Hesitantly, he reached out to touch the legendary bird, who lowered his head, allowing the Seeker to pet him.

Smiling, Harry asked, “Do you have a letter for me?”

Opening one eye, Fawkes simply raised his left leg and released a letter that he had been clutching in his talons. However, rather than flying off, Fawkes remained perched on Harry's shoulder, seemingly content to let Viktor stroke his head.

Laughing to himself, Harry turned his attention to the letter.

Harry,

That's great news! I'm so glad you're going to be coming to Hogwarts! When Dumbledore announced the age-line, Hermione was sure you wouldn't be able to come since you can't compete, but it's awesome that your Headmaster is letting you come anyway! I'm already writing Mum and Dad, I'm sure they'll be happy that you're going to be back in England. Have you written them to let them know?

I still can't believe you didn't tell me about the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Hermione thinks it's unfair that Durmstrang students knew almost half a year ahead of time, and Ron's just happy he'll have the chance to meet Viktor Krum. I know you and Ron have never really gotten on great Harry, but can you please get him an autograph? He really wants one.

Hermione wanted me to ask what classes you're going to be taking at Hogwarts. It would probably be silly for you to be in our fourth year classes, right? I mean, you probably learned this stuff ages ago. Do you know if you're going to be sorted, again? Or will Durmstrang just be independent?

Merlin, this is going to be so great, Harry. I know you didn't enjoy Hogwarts much, but this time it'll be different, I promise. It sucks that Quidditch is canceled, it would have been amazing to play against the Durmstrang teams – though I bet Krum would have crushed everyone playing on the Hogwarts school brooms.

Can't wait!

Nathan

P.S. How cool is this? Fawkes just showed up when I was in the owlery trying to send the letter. See you on the 30th!

  
“Merlin, Nathan,” Harry muttered, “mention Hermione much?”

Putting the letter down, Harry couldn't help but feel a myriad of emotions. While he was pleased that his brother wanted to see him, he didn't like that his brother just assumed he wouldn't be allowed to compete. He was going to Hogwarts for one reason – to win!

“Well, this is new.” Calypso approached her boyfriend, eying the large Phoenix carefully. “Why is there an incredibly rare magical creature on your shoulder, Harry?”

Grinning Harry said, “Calypso meet Fawkes – he's Professor Dumbledore's Phoenix. Fawkes, this is my girlfriend, Calypso.”

Breaking contact with Viktor, Fawkes sharply turned his head and stared at Calypso. There was a very tense moment when Fawkes and Calypso seemingly locked eyes and neither refused to look away.

After what felt like ages, Fawkes began to softly sing before fluttering over and landing on her shoulder.

“See, he likes you!” Reaching into his bag, Harry withdrew a piece of parchment and began to compose a quick reply. He never noticed that Fawkes, who now loomed over Calypso, had returned to staring intently at the girl.

Unwilling to be intimidated by a bird, no matter how magical, Calypso, once again, met the Phoenix's gaze. She felt a slight lurching in the pit of her stomach, but she pushed the feeling aside, and refused to look away. “You're an interesting creature, aren't you?”

Extending her hand, she lightly brushed her hand across the bird's body, slightly put off by the way Fawkes was eying her fingers like they were snacks. The fact that the Phoenix's talons had tightened their grip on her shoulder was a very clear reminder to Calypso that the Phoenix was an incredibly dangerous magical creature, and it had long ago earned its XXXX rating from virtually every magical government.

Feeling bold, Calypso lifted her hand, and brushed the top of Fawkes' head. Eventually, Fawkes closed his eyes and his talons relaxed – a pleased thrill echoing throughout the Main Hall.

“All done!”

Quick as lightning, Fawkes' eyes snapped open and he flew from Calypso over to Harry.

“Do you mind bringing this back to Nathan, Fawkes?” Harry asked. “I can easily send it with a Durmstrang owl if you'd rather not.”

Fawkes affectionately rubbed his head against Harry's neck before he snatched the letter in his talons and flashed away.

“That was nice of him,” Harry said pleasantly.

Calypso simply nodded her head in agreement. As she listened to Viktor ask her boyfriend a series of questions about Fawkes, she couldn't help but feel that she had just been judged by the Phoenix, and she wasn't sure just where she stood with the creature.

  
ooo0000ooo  


Spilling Blood  
Durmstrang Grounds, Oct 17th

Dropping out of the air, Harry, Viktor, and Calypso touched down onto the soft, marshy, ground.

“Disgusting,” Calypso spat, smacking a mosquito that landed on her arm. “This is the last time I'm coming this far out to practice until you learn a decent insect-repelling charm.”

“Agreed.” Viktor released a burst of fire from his wand, killing all the bugs in the immediate area. “Ask Kosarev if you must, Harry. The insects will only grow more insufferable until the first frost, and we'll be long gone by then.”

“Alright, I'll look it up when we get back,” Harry said for what seemed like the tenth time. “You could always find one yourselves, you know.”

“Viktor and I are not the ones who insist we practice this far beyond the wards,” Calypso reminded her boyfriend.

“Think of it as Occlumency practice,” Harry said irritably. “If you can't keep calm around some bugs, how will you maintain your emotions under a Legilimency attack.”

“Fine,” Calypso conceded, “but you will find an insect repelling charm or you can practice by yourself.”

“I'll get right on it.”

Viktor grimaced as he smacked a bug that had landed on his neck. “Let's just hurry up, okay?”

Knowing that his friends' patience were approaching their breaking limit, Harry withdrew a small goblet that he had appropriated from the Main Hall during lunch. Setting it down on a reasonably sized rock, Harry carefully waved his wand around the goblet before intoning, “Protego Totalum.”

A brief gold glow emanated from the rock and goblet, and Harry stepped away, giving Viktor and Calypso a clear angle.

“We can destroy the stupid thing now?” Viktor asked.

“Yes.”

Calypso's wand was moving before Harry had finished speaking. “Vicero!”

“Expulso!” Viktor echoed a moment later.

Harry withheld a grimace, and he silently hoped he'd never need to guard against an evisceration and an explosive curse at the same time.

The two spells crossed the short distance to the goblet, and the ward flared green from the impact. The small goblet rattled slightly, but, other than that, there was no sign it had been affected at all. Unwilling to admit defeat, Viktor and Calypso both slipped into spell-chains, sending curse after curse at the goblet, eventually overwhelming the rudimentary ward, and sending the goblet flying into the marshes after a few more spells.

Feeling quite proud of himself, Harry said, “Well, that lasted a lot longer than last time. Viktor, are you up for testing the anti-disapparition ward, again?”

“Anything to get away from this place. Tell me again why we can't practice closer to the Quidditch pitch?”

Rolling his eyes, Harry replied, “Because the sheer intent behind the wards cast over Durmstrang would provide a very small boost to any protective magic that is cast within them, at least according to Professor Kosarev. I want to make sure I know exactly how strong my wards are, so I don't want to practice anywhere near them.”

“Didn't you say you didn't believe that theory about warding?” Calypso asked. “Something about the caster's intent?”

“Well,” Harry felt his face heat up a bit. “I didn't say the theory is wrong, just that people who are already protected by ridiculously powerful wards are likely to feel more at ease when casting their own. I'm not sold that it's the already existing wards that make the additional wards stronger, but rather the caster's more relaxed state. Still, I don't know if I'm right or not. There is a lot written about magical transference, especially when you look into higher level enchanting and lay –”

“Harry,” Viktor interrupted. “Are you going to cast the spell or not?”

Realizing that his friend wasn't in the mood, and might just disapparate to get away from the area anyway, Harry went about casting the anti-disapparition ward. “Whenever you're ready, Viktor.”

With a slight twist, Viktor disappeared with a sharp 'crack.'

“Damn it,” Harry spat. “That is supposed to be one of the easier spells to cast.”

Viktor quickly returned with another 'crack' and said, “Sorry, Harry.”

“Did it feel any different than last time?” Harry asked. “Harder to leave, maybe?”

Shaking his head, Viktor said, “No. It felt the same.”

“Just great. Viktor, can you go fly a mile away or so? I'll set up an anti-apparition ward. Maybe I'll have more luck with that.”

With a grin, Viktor summoned his broom, leaping into the air just as it arrived, and raced off into the sky.

Determined, Harry paced around the area, an intent look on his face. Waving his wand above his head, he cast the anti-apparition ward, carefully keeping the exact area he was trying to ward in mind. Once he was finished, a soft-yellow hue appeared at the tip of his wand. The small glowing yellow dot lifted up off his wand and into the air before it expanded outward in a bubble before vanishing completely.

“Did it work?” Calypso asked, looking suitably impressed.

“I don't know, maybe.” Harry looked around the area. “Viktor's not here, so it might have worked.”

“Or Krum has just taken to flying around because he doesn't want to come back and deal with all the bugs,” Calypso pointed out, causing Harry to falter slightly.

“Yeah, or that.”

“Well, we don't have anything to do until Viktor gets back,” Calypso said. “Why don't you practice the ward you worked on last time?”

“Cave Inimicum?” Harry seemed to consider it. “I guess I could, though I think I've got it down reasonably well.”

“Practice makes perfect, Potter,” Calypso teased. “Don't get arrogant just because it took Viktor and I a few more curses to break down your overblown shield spell.”

Realizing that Calypso had a point, Harry reached into his robes and withdrew a small plate. Placing it on the rock, he enlarged the object before carefully pacing around the area, muttering quietly and waving his wand.

“Cave Inimicum!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Harry felt an immediate connection to the ward, and, for a fraction of second, his senses flared, opening his mind to every threat, human and animal within the immediate area. As soon as the feeling left, his eyes widened in horror. Raising his wand, he grabbed Calypso, pulling her close to him.

Pointing his wand at a nearby group of trees, Harry's wand blurred, and he slipped into a spell chain.

Calypso's stared in shock as Harry suddenly released a bone exploding curse, a series of explosive spells, and a cutting curse into the nearby foliage. Her surprise was doubled when there was a loud scream, and several shields sprang into existence. Before Calypso could so much as raise her wand, Harry had turned around to send a blasting curse behind them, but, before he could complete the spell, the entire area erupted in spell fire as a half-dozen curses rained down upon them.

His wand already in motion, Harry just barely managed to raise a shield charm, blocking the first few curses. Unfortunately, with no spell protecting his back, and Calypso caught off-guard, a bone breaking curse struck his left elbow, snapping his non-wand arm.

Harry's howl of pain was what finally snapped Calypso out of her inactivity, and she waved her wand above her head, a massive torrent of fire exploding into the air. Moving her wand in an intricate circle, Calypso guided the flame to wrap completely around Harry and herself before willing it to dig into the earth.

At her command, the fire kicked up a great deal of rock, heating it considerably before the fire blasted outwards at their opponents. As the surrounding foliage and trees started to burn, Calypso heard the shouts and screams from the various disillusioned figures as they rapidly tried to cast flame freezing charms. As the first attacker became visible, Calypso unleashed a barrage of curses upon them.

Meanwhile, Harry had just finished numbing his arm and securing it to his side with a sticking Charm. Not knowing how many attackers they were facing, he cast Homenum Revelioand tapped his wand against his and Calypso's temple.

As soon as the spell took effect, Harry and Calypso tightened the grip on their wands. There were nine soft blue hues that encircled them, and only two of them were not moving, meaning at least seven had managed to avoid their initial attack, which had likely caught them by surprise.

Unwilling to give up their advantage, Calypso sent a laceration curse followed by a bone exploding curse at the nearest target. The person narrowly dodged the first spell only to take the bone exploding curse in the arm, dispelling her disillusionment charm.

As the dark skinned girl fell to the ground, clutching her arm and screaming in pain, Harry's eyes narrowed when he recalled just where he had seen her before. While he never bothered to learn her name, she and her twin sister were among the numerous people not allowed to go to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament.

Judging from the look on Calypso's face, she also recognized the girl; however, before either of them could send a follow up spell, the remaining attackers regained their bearings and unleashed another round of curses.

Having no choice, Harry and Calypso threw themselves to the ground, just avoiding the overhead spells. Sweeping his wand across his body, Harry sent another explosive hex, quickly followed by a Gauging curse. The nearest two attackers were instantly pushed on the defensive, but the rest, seeing an opportunity, sent another round of spells.

Scrambling, Harry and Calypso barely dodged the incoming curses – the first semblance of doubt and fear creeping into the back of their minds. Frantically, they both unconsciously began mirroring each other as they shielded, parried, and dodged as fast as they could.

Deflecting a suppression curse, Harry jabbed his wand forward, releasing a powerful gust of wind at his attackers. The three opponents in front of him were blown momentarily off-balance, giving Harry just enough time to slip into one of the most vicious spell-chains he had practiced for the Tri-Wizard. Blood-boiling, bludgeoning, explosive, and bone-exploding spells flew from his wand faster than his opponents could possible defend against.

The closest attackers couldn't so much as dodge the incoming curses, and it was only bad luck that the blood-boiler missed high; however, the bludgeoning curse hit the first attacker in the hip, flinging him into the burning woods. The explosive curse struck the dark skinned girl's twin, sending a spray of rock into her face, and the bone exploding curse struck the third's left leg, throwing him into a nearby tree.

Harry was just about to finish them with a round of stunners when he felt a sharp stab of pain in his shoulder, and, a second later, his body was slammed painfully into the earth, his nose breaking on contact. Dazed, he spit out a great deal of dirt, his entire body feeling like it had just been pummeled.

Managing to turn his head, Harry saw the black girl Calypso had injured at the start of the duel raise her wand, levitating his body into the air. His eyes were wide with horror as the girl flicked her wand, violently banishing him into a nearby block of trees.

Smashing through the foliage, Harry tried to cover his head with his arms, but his extremities were barely responsive. It wasn't until his leg struck a passing tree, snapping his femur, that feeling finally fully returned.

Screaming in pain, Harry took in several labored breathes. Rolling over onto his broken arm, Harry felt his vision swirl. Tears falling down his face, he tried to climb to his feet, only to fall flat on his face. Clawing his way up to his hands and knees, he could just make out his girlfriend trying to keep the remaining attackers back with a flame whip.

Helplessly watching from the woods, Harry saw Calypso get hit by a Conjunctivitis curse before being dropped by a stunner, her flame whip flicking out. Looking for anything to help, Harry saw a few decaying logs that were a few feet away. With a wave of his wand, Harry cast a disillusionment charm on the nearest one before angrily banishing it at the closest wizard to Calypso.

With a scream, the boy's body was rammed, the log breaking in half against the side of his body.

Banishing a few more logs, Harry shouted, “Accio Calypso.”

Unfortunately, now that the other three attackers realized he wasn't as out of the fight as they thought, they were able to quickly destroy the banished objects before they got close. In one terrible moment, Harry realized that by summoning Calypso, he'd not only exposed his unconscious girlfriend, but given away his position.

Trying to cast a shield charm over Calypso, Harry was shocked to see a stream of stunners and blasting curses rain down on the few remaining attackers. Looking up in the sky, Harry saw Viktor streaking down on his broom, a burst of fire leaving his wand as he descended.

Doing his best to catch the summoned Calypso without crushing his injured arm or leg, Harry countered the Conjunctivitis curse before waking her up.

Eyes snapping open, Calypso raised her wand, a spell already on her lips. Recognizing Harry, she spat, “I'll kill them.”

“Wait.” Harry grabbed Calypso's arm, wincing as his leg shifted uncomfortably. “Do you know the bone-mending charm?”

Her eyes softening, Calypso shook her head sadly. “I can numb it, but that's it.”

“I already did that,” Harry said, his entire body aching painfully.

If possible, Calypso grew more enraged. “No more holding back, Harry. Viktor's outnumbered, and you're too injured to keep going much longer. We need to finish this. Now.”

Harry didn't need Legilimency to know what Calypso was telling him to do. He was a fraction of a second away from shaking his head when he saw one of the people he sent into the marshes limping out of the woods – their wand pointed directly at Viktor's back.

Fearing that more people might be about to rejoin the fight against them, and knowing he couldn't keep fighting the way he was injured, Harry channeled all the pain he was feeling into a single spell. Pointing his wand at the boy, he spat, “Crucio!”

Idly, Harry heard his girlfriend echo him a moment later, but his eyes were locked straight ahead, following the path of his spell. When the unforgivable struck the boy in the side, the effect was almost instantaneous. Dropping like a marionette with its strings cut, the boy screamed in absolute agony, a sound that was soon joined by the girl Calypso had hit with her curse.

For a moment, the two duelists facing down Viktor froze. All around them the marshes burned while the people who accompanied them were either unconscious or screaming in pain.

Viktor, on the other hand, was in no mood to stop, and he used his opponents momentary distraction to drop them with a pair of bludgeoning curses to the head. Almost as an afterthought, Viktor stunned and bound the two before surveying the area.

Several fires were starting to spread, and, summoning his Firebolt, Viktor took off, trying to find anyone unconscious around the flames. When he spotted an injured attacker, he quickly stunned and levitated them away from the fire. When everyone was accounted for, and Calypso had helped Harry walk out of the woods, Viktor stared at his friends in complete astonishment.

“What the fuck happened?”

“I have an idea, but I can't prove it unless we wake one of them up,” Calypso said. “Come on, we need to get Harry to the hospital wing, his leg is broken.”

“So is my arm,” Harry pointed out, tiredly.

Seeing the purplish limb, Viktor winced. “Then we should go. What do you want to do about them? We can't leave them here with the fire.”

Tiredly lifting his wand, Harry closed his eyes and muttered an incantation. Slowly, the fires started to die down until only the smell of ozone and burnt trees gave any hint that the marshes were once burning.

Staring wide-eyed at her boyfriend, Calypso had to stop herself from gaping at her boyfriend's impressive command of elemental magic. Deciding to simply bring it up later, Calypso pointed her finger at a round-faced brunette that was laying unconscious at her feet. “That's Nicole Stevens. She's a sixth year in my Dark Arts class. She confronted me a few days ago, and said it was unfair that Harry and I were granted exemptions to join the Hogwarts delegation. Apparently, she has a half sister at Hogwarts that she wanted to see, but she wasn't allowed to go because she's only sixteen.”

Using Viktor's broom as a crutch, Harry hobbled over to the stunned group and pointed at the dark-skinned twins. “I recognize them. They're fifth years. They were in the meeting at the start of the semester with us.” Looking closely at one of the unconscious wizards, Harry frowned. “Isn't that...”

“Demarcus Muller,” Viktor said, nodding his head. “He's also 16.”

“Let me guess,” Harry said, starting to understand, “He wasn't allowed to go to Hogwarts either?”

Shaking his head in disgust, Viktor said, “We should leave them. They'll wake up in a few hours, and by then it'll be past curfew.”

“It seems too easy for what they did.” Harry eyed the group with the utmost disdain.

“Do you think any of them are good at healing charms?” Calypso asked. “I'd hate for them to just cast the bone mending spell and shrug off what happened here.”

“It won't matter,” Viktor said, not wanting to see what would happen if his friends followed that trail of thought. “The bone-mending charm only works if the break is fresh. It'll be skele-grow for virtually all of them.”

Nodding, Harry summoned the broom he flew out on and carefully mounted it, Viktor and Calypso following soon afterward, each doing their best to help Harry as they took off. As they flew towards castle, leaving behind a beaten, bloody, and brutalized group of witches and wizards, a thought crossed into Harry's mind.

“Hey Viktor?” he asked. “Did the anti-apparition ward work?”

Looking at his friend in complete disbelief, Viktor simply nodded his head.

“Oh, well, that's good,” Harry said lamely. “I'll have to figure out what I did wrong on the anti-disapparition ward. Maybe Professor Kosarev will know.”

“Harry,” Viktor laughed ruefully, “Don''t ever change.”

It wasn't until they were nearly back at the gates of Durmstrang that Harry bothered to break the silence that had descended around them. Glancing over at Calypso, he asked, “What's wrong?”

Slightly taken aback, Calypso quickly said, “Nothing.”

Grinning, Harry tapped his wand against his head. “Not going to buy that, Calypso. What's bothering you?”

“You mean beyond the massive fight we just had?” she asked, heatedly.

Harry nodded.

“It's nothing,” Calypso lied. “Don't worry about it.”

Not believing his girlfriend for a second, but too tired to press the issue, Harry just nodded his head and focused on landing. Touching down on the ground, he nearly blacked out when he accidentally put pressure on his broken leg. As Calypso and Viktor rushed to his side to help him, Harry made a mental note to learn some advanced healing charms.

ooo0000ooo  


  
Fear and Loathing  
Durmstrang Oct. 30stThe duel in the marshes was a complete and total secret – for almost an entire day.

While Harry and Calypso had easily explained their injures as dueling practice for the Tri-Wizard, their opponents, who were found bleeding and stumbling into the hospital wing several hours after curfew, had no excuse. Lady Shluga's screams upon seeing the state of the broken and battered fifth and sixth years had already slipped into the stuff of legend. And, thanks in part to a minor out-break of dragon lung, several students were present to hear the full report of injuries each of the students had sustained.

While the accounts seemed to vary slightly, a few details were too consistent to be exaggerations. Several students showed nerve damage consistent with the Cruciatus curse, half of them had broken bones or burns, and almost all of them showed signs of blunt force trauma to key areas of the body. All it took was a particularly clever second year that remembered Harry Potter and Calypso Rosier having various injuries that needed to be healed earlier in the day for the rumors to begin.

By noon the next afternoon, Calypso Rosier and Harry Potter were the two most watched, discussed, and feared people at Durmstrang. The sheer damage done to some of the most talented upperclassmen in the school, with no administrative action taken against them, had established a very clear, yet unintentional, message. That Harry Potter and Calypso Rosier were now a power unto themselves at Durmstrang.

“Enter.”

Seeing the door open, but no one enter, Romulus casually said, “You're going to be late. The ship is about to dock.”

Dropping her disillusionment charm, a tired-looking Calypso said, “I need to know.”

Smiling indulgently, Romulus merely raised a curious eyebrow. “Know what, my dear?”

“Was it you?” Calypso asked, her tone dull, almost resigned. “Did you tell them where to find us?”

“I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about,” Romulus said, sounding baffled. “I did hear a rather fascinating rumor about you, Mr. Potter, and a few upperclassmen. Igor was especially incensed, but the other professors and I convinced him not to pursue it. What happens off the grounds is hardly the professor's business. Are you talking about that?”

“Just stop it!” Calypso snapped. “Why can't you just give me an honest answer? Before I leave, I want to know. Was it you? Did you tell them where to find us?”

Romulus scoffed. “And why would I set up my own daughter?”

“You know why. You don't trust me anymore.” Calypso did her best to appear defiant, but she couldn't stop the hurt that echoed in her voice.

“And why wouldn't I trust you?” Romulus asked, casually. “The daughter I raised, the girl whose every whim and desire I catered to at all times. What could possibly cause me to doubt you? Surely, you would put our family – pathetically small that it is – above everything else.”

“The family is dead!” Calypso said heatedly before deflating. “What does it matter what I do anymore? Can't you just let me be happy?”

Romulus eyed his daughter disapprovingly. “I will always work in this family's best interest Calypso, even if you don't always see it.”

“But that doesn't necessarily mean you're working in my best interest,” Calypso said, openly glaring at the man in front of her. “What more do you want, father? What could you possibly ask of me that I haven't already given you? You won. I gave you all the information about Harry that you wanted at the end of September.”

“I was perfectly fine letting you live your life as you saw fit, Calypso.” Romulus pointed out. “I gave you all the leeway you wanted this summer, didn't I? I didn't extort that information from you. If I remember correctly, you practically begged me to accept it.”

Calypso stared at her father with pure, unfiltered, rage. “Oh, I'll never forget this summer, father. Spending every waking moment by myself. No one to help if a spell I practiced backfired. Access to my Gringotts account closed off. Being forced to beg Draco for the money to pay for Portkeys.”

“Self-reliance is a necessary skill–“

“Don't pretend that it was anything other than punishment!” Calypso exclaimed.

“And you should stop pretending that you're some kind of a victim,” Romulus countered, his eyes blazing. “You were the one that decided your priorities had changed. Just as you were the one who offered the information on Harry Potter in exchange for a spot in the Durmstrang delegation.”

“You're the only person besides, Harry, Viktor and myself that knew where we practiced,” Calypso stated emphatically. “Did you tell them where they could find us? Was it some kind of sick test to ensure the information I gave you was the truth? Did you do it? I want an answer before I leave.”

“I owe you nothing,” Romulus said coldly. Seeing the hurt that momentarily flashed across his daughter's face, he turned away to stare out his window. The massive Durmstrang ship dominated the view as it sat on the lake “Besides, why would I need to test you, Calypso? You gave me everything, didn't you? Surely, you wouldn't have left something out, right?”

Calypso's eyes hardened as she turned to walk away. Pausing momentarily, she said, “Remember your promise.”

“So many secrets.” Romulus shook his head, laughing slightly. “I wonder what your precious half-blood would think about that?”

Not bothering to respond, Calypso left the room as fast as her legs would carry her. As she walked down the main stairway, she idly noticed students of all ages move out of her way, few daring to so much as make eye contact with her. Once upon a time, she would have felt a huge thrill at having so thoroughly proven herself to the students of Durmstrang, but now...

Laughing bitterly to herself, Calypso was truly amazed at how much her life had changed over the past few years. She was done judging herself against the rest of Durmstrang, not even her father's opinion meant that much anymore. As far as she was concerned, there was only one person she felt a need to measure up to and impress. And, as she approached the massive Durmstrang ship, Calypso spotted him casually waiting for her on the gangplank.

“Hey!” Harry said brightly. “For a second there, I thought you weren't going to make it. Karkaroff is almost ready to go.”

Smiling brightly at her boyfriend, Calypso did her best to act casually. “And miss seeing your face when I become the Durmstrang champion? Dream on Potter.”

Seeing Harry's eyes light up with the fiery competitiveness she'd come to adore, Calypso couldn't help but think that while the price to follow Harry to Hogwarts was steep, it was undoubtedly worth it.


	17. Chapter 17

The Arrival  
Somewhere in the Norwegian Sea, Oct 3oth

“Fucking ancient enchantments!” Harry spat angrily. “I could cast a better water repelling charm as a second year!”

While the trip to Hogwarts had begun with a great deal of enthusiasm, four hours into the journey tempers were starting to flare. The Highmaster and his aide had left the 'best and brightest of Durmstrang' to steer the ship and maintain the protective spells that kept the water from crushing them as they traveled beneath the waves.

Whoever had originally created the Durmstrang ship was either far ahead of his time, or a complete fucking lunatic. The ship acted like a gigantic, slow-moving, Portkey. Once activated, the ship would generate a massive whirlpool that would allow the vessel to be transported anywhere there was a sizable amount of water for it to emerge. Unfortunately, the manner in which it did so made Portkey travel seem like a casual trip through the floo.

“Harry!” Viktor shouted from the steering wheel. “Another enchantment has failed on the lower deck! Can you patch it up?”

“How much longer till we get to Hogwarts, Viktor?” Harry demanded, his entire body drenched from head to toe. “This piece of shit is falling apart all around us!”

Viktor glanced at an instrument near the wheel before saying, “Either twenty minutes or twenty-two thousand seconds. The counter keeps flipping between the two numbers.”

As he was in the best physical shape, Viktor had been unanimously named the ship's captain. Since some magic could interfere with the very old instruments, and the ship needed to be kept on a very tight course, there were few who were up to the physical challenge to man the wheel except Viktor.

Harry could tell his friend was strained, but he could hardly sympathize. As one of the best at enchanting, he had been placed on a team that was responsible for plugging any breaks in the ship's enchantments. The old boat was held together by magic and a cascading failure of the enchantments was as good as a death sentence for everyone. There was no telling where the whirlpool would deposit them if the boat broke apart.

“Calypso, Esmeralda!” Viktor snapped. “I need you to go vanish the water in the lower cabins so Harry can fix the enchantments.”

Scowling, the two girls followed Harry down into the lower deck of the Durmstrang ship. All around them students waved their wands, sticking charms keeping their feet firmly attached to the ship's floor as it twisted around the whirlpool. Reaching the hatch to the lower deck, Harry waved his wand unlocking it, only to be met with a flood of water.

“It's already flooded!” he exclaimed angrily. “Someone needs to correct the enchantments on that warning device.”

“We're taking on too much water, we need you to fix patch the enchantment,” Calypso said, trying in vain to hold back the rising water. “You need to go down there, hurry!”

Casting the bubblehead charm, Harry dove into the lower level. Without a sticking charm to keep him in place, his body was rocked back and forth with the ship.

Fortunately, finding the broken enchantment was fairly easy; all he had to do was focus on where the water was pushing against him the strongest. Eventually, he found one of the unbreakable charms on a porthole had failed. Swimming close to the wall, he rapidly fixed the enchantment before beginning to vanish the excess water around him.

Ten minutes later, a soaked Harry Potter walked back onto the deck.

Before he could so much as say anything, Viktor said, “We'll be there soon. The numbers have begun rapidly decreasing, maybe two to three minutes. Do me a favor and alert the Highmaster, Harry.”

Exhausted, but not in the mood to argue, Harry knocked patiently on the Highmaster's door.

“Come!”

Pushing the door open, Harry was momentarily stunned with the luxurious accommodations of the Highmaster's suite. While the majority of the ship was circa 14th century, the Highmaster's quarters had apparently been updated very recently. As soon as he crossed the threshold into the Highmaster's room, the instability from the rocking boat vanished. Stabilization charms kept his feet firmly on the floor, and silencing spells made certain that nothing disturbed the classical music the Highmaster was listening to.

“Yes, Mr. Potter?” Karkaroff asked impatiently.

“I'm sorry, sir,” Harry did his best to keep his voice respectful. “Victor says we're almost there. Two minutes.”

“Splendid.” Looking at Harry's tussled appearance, Karkaroff said, “Do make sure the students change before disembarking. We must look our best.”

Gritting his teeth, Harry replied, “Of course, sir.”

Leaving the Highmaster, Harry walked back onto the bridge and cast Sonorus. “We're going to arrive in two minutes. The Highmaster reminds everyone to change into their black dress robes before disembarking.”

As soon as Harry finished speaking, the boat began to rapidly ascend. Holding onto a railing to avoid falling backwards, Harry felt the ship erupt out of the water before slamming down.

“Please tell me we arrived?”

Stepping down from his spot at the wheel, Viktor said, “You tell me, Harry. Is that Hogwarts?”

Twisting his head, Harry found himself staring up at the majestic view of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Unintentionally, Harry found himself smiling up at the old castle – the view really was impressive. “Yes, that's Hogwarts.”

“Alright, everyone downstairs!” Karkaroff walked over and took the helm. “I'll guide us to the dock. I expect everyone ready to disembark within seven minut–”

“Ah-choo!” Viktor sneezed violently. “I apologize, Highmast – Ah-choo! Ugh, I think I caught a cold, sir.”

“Not to worry, Viktor,” the Highmaster said haughtily, “We'll be inside soon enough.” Turning to the rest of the students, Karkaroff snapped, “What are you waiting for? Can't you see Mr. Krum is ill? Hurry up! Move!”

Harry joined the mass of students that hustled down the stairs and into the various cabins. Quickly putting on his black dress robes, Harry was among the first to return to the top of the ship.

Spotting Calypso near the gangplank, he walked over to her.

“It's hard to believe we're actually here.”

“We still need to convince the judge to let us compete,” she reminded him, her eyes locked on the large group of students that stood outside in perfect lines. “What are they like?”

Seeing where Calypso was looking, Harry scowled. “Terrible. Well,” he amended, “not all of them. Nathan is great, and Hermione has some talent. I'm not sure about the upper years, but the Ravenclaws I knew were useless bastards.”

“Draco said the only talented wizards were sorted in Slytherin.”

Harry laughed. “Yeah, but your cousin is an idiot. I told you how open his mind was to suggestion at the World Cup, right?”

“Yes, you did.” A frown crossed Calypso's face. “I have no doubt that Draco will be insufferable at times this year.”

“Almost all of them are likely to be insufferable. Are you worried at all?” Seeing Calypso's look of confusion, Harry clarified, “That Draco or someone on the ship will reveal your father being alive.”

“No.” The finality of Calypso's statement caught Harry a bit off-guard. “Don't worry about that, Harry. I assure you, that has been taken care of a long time ago.”

Before Harry could ask what Calypso meant, Karkaroff said, “Everyone forward!”

“Are you going to attend any of the classes at Hogwarts?” Calypso asked, stepping in line behind Harry to get off the ship. “And can you believe we're not allowed to practice the Dark Arts off the ship?”

“Hogwarts does have some good professors,” Harry mused. “I'll probably sit in on a few upper year classes and speak to Flitwick, McGonagall, and Snape privately if I have any questions. As far as practicing the Dark Arts, we'll just have to think of something. I don't want to imagine what could happen if a stray spell screws up an enchantment on this old ship.”

“Snape was your Occlumency teacher, right?” Calypso asked.

“Yes. He's a very talented Legilimens.” Harry's eyes widened slightly and he leaned close to his girlfriend to whisper, “He also knew your brother, so do your best to avoid him.”

“Igor!” The imposing figure of Albus Dumbledore greeted, his eyes momentarily flicking over to Harry and Calypso. “Welcome to Hogwarts. I hope your journey from up north was pleasant.”

“It was, Albus,” Karkaroff replied, stepping forward to embrace the powerful wizard in a hug. “Thank you for hosting this auspicious tournament. Might we move this along, though? I'm afraid Viktor caught a rather frightful cold along the way.”

“Of course, Beauxbatons has already arrived. They will be sitting with our Ravenclaws tonight.” Dumbledore turned and walked with Karkaroff into Hogwarts. “Do you have a preference?”

“Whatever table is closest to the torches.” Karkaroff placed a hand on Viktor's shoulder. “I would hate for Mr. Krum to be uncomfortable.”

“Well, why don't you lead your students to the Slytherin table,” Dumbledore said, ignoring the slight protest and groans from Hufflepuff and Gryffindor.

Scowling, Harry playfully jabbed Viktor in the back. “Way to go, Viktor. My brother's a Gryffindor.”

Viktor rolled his eyes. “I'm so sorry my illness has inconvenienced you, Harry.”

“Yes, do shut up, Potter,” Kira said, taking Viktor's hand, and quickly pulling him over to a corner of the Slytherin table.

Harry watched the two for a few seconds, and he couldn't help but notice the way Viktor seemed to be leaning away from his girlfriend. Whatever Kira was saying, it seemed that Viktor was not in the mood to hear it.

Ignoring the two, Harry and Calypso sat closer to the middle of the table. Slowly, the hall began filling up with Hogwarts students. Catching his brother's eye, Harry smiled and gave a small wave, which was quickly returned. Once the last student had taken a seat, Dumbledore stood up from the high table and complete silence descended across the Great Hall.

“Good evening ladies, gentlemen, ghosts, and – most particularly – honored guests.” Dumbledore's blue eyes seemed to glow with pride as he surveyed the foreign students, lingering only slightly on Harry. “I have the great pleasure of welcoming you all to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the Tri-Wizard Tournament.”

“The tournament will officially be opened at the end of the feast.” Dumbledore waved his hand, causing a mass of food to appear across every table. “But, for now, I invite you to eat, drink, reach out to embrace new acquaintances, and enjoy.”

As soon as Dumbledore sat, there was a rush of activity as students – particularly those who had worked for hours on the Durmstrang ship – reached out to put food on their plates.

“They seemed to bring in some foreign foods,” Harry observed as he placed a large lamb chop onto his dish.

Calypso shrugged uncaringly. “I'd rather Dumbledore just explain the tournament.”

“Uh, hi,” A wiry brown-haired boy said from down the table. “You're Potter's brother, right?”

His eyes flicking over to the boy, Harry reached out with Legilimency and felt nothing but curiosity from him.

“Yes,” he replied in English. “Who are you?”

“Theodore Nott, I'm in your year at Hogwarts. Why are you here? Dumbledore said you had to be seventeen to enter the tournament.”

Frowning, Harry was about to reply when Calypso said, “What does it matter how old we are? If we're skilled enough, we should be allowed to compete.”

Nott blinked and opened his mouth before thinking better of it and returning to a conversation with a red-haired girl next to him.

Turning to Calypso, Harry felt a slight pull against his mind. Snapping his head to the left, he quickly tracked the source of the intrusion to the Ravenclaw table, specifically the Beauxbatons section. “Veela.”

Calypso followed his gaze. “She's not full blooded. They're not allowed at any major wizarding schools. Most likely a half or quarter.”

“Viktor,” Harry called down the table in Bulgarian. Once he had his friend's attention, Harry said, “There's a part-Veela in the Beauxbatons' delegation.”

Viktor's eyes flicked over to the Beauxbatons students, who seemed to realize they were the object of scrutiny from the Durmstrang students. As soon as Viktor spotted the Veela, he felt the allure, shook it off immediately, and nodded politely back at her. Turning back to his girlfriend, Viktor mentally sighed at the outright glare Kira was sending in the girl's direction.

As the evening began to drag on, Harry was starting to wonder if Dumbledore would ever explain the tournament. That was until two people joined the high table. “Calypso,” Harry pointed to the taller of the two men, “that's Ludo Bagman, head of Magical Games and Sports for the British Ministry. I'm not sure who the other man is, but he looks like he's from the Ministry as well.”

“Do you think they're in charge of choosing the champion?”

Harry shook his head. “No, that doesn't make sense. Karkaroff said the judge would be impartial. There's no way he'd agree to two British Ministry people choosing Dursmtrang's champion.”

As the plates were wiped clean of desert, Dumbledore stood up again, causing the entire room to fall silent.

“It is time. The Tri-Wizard Tournament is about to begin. I would first like to explain a few things before we bring in the casket.”

Harry shot Calypso a confused look. “Do you know what he's talking about.”

Calypso simply shook her head.

“But first allow me to introduce Mr. Ludo Bagman, the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, and Mr. Barty Crouch, the head of the Department of International Cooperation. They will be acting, in conjunction with myself, Headmistress Maxime, and Highmaster Karkaroff on the the judging panel for the tasks the champions must face.”

Harry couldn't help but notice how everyone seemed to grow more attentive at the word 'champions.' Dismissing the wide-eyed hopefuls, Harry listened intently as his grandfather continued.

“Each of the champions will face three challenges that will be spaced throughout the school year. The tests will challenge the champions in many ways be it magical ability, daring, reasoning, and, of course, courage under extreme danger. In order to obtain true impartiality, the champions will be chosen by a unique arbiter, the Goblet of Fire. Mr. Filch, if you will?”

Harry watched as the Squib pushed a large casket to the center of the Great Hall before Dumbledore dismissed him with a look. With a flick of his wand Dumbledore opened the casket, exposing a large wooden cup encrusted with various gems and engravings along its side. The simple object would have been fairly unimpressive were it not for the large flickering blue and white flames that danced across it.

“To submit your name as champion, you need only write your name and school clearly upon a slip of paper and drop it into the Goblet. Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours to put their names into the cup. After that, the Goblet shall make its decision and chose who is worthy to represent each of our fine schools.”

Feeling his heart beat increase with every second, Harry was tempted to stand up and cheer. If the Goblet was half as old as it looked, it was possible Dumbledore wouldn't want to mess with the enchantments on the object. That meant all he had to do was get his name into the Goblet.

“To ensure that no underage student attempt to place their name into the Goblet.” Dumbledore's eyes flicked over to Harry and the two stared intently at each other for a moment. “I shall be drawing an Age Line around it. No one under seventeen years of age will be permitted to cross. There shall be no exceptions.”

As Dumbledore began carefully casting the age line, Harry felt a growing sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. It didn't take someone of his prodigious talent to recognize a ward, and that's exactly what Dumbledore was casting – a very well-known, but powerful protective ward, originally created to stop small children from entering sections of a house they had no business being in. Harry had run into the ward growing up when his mother used it to protect her Potions lab, but he had never seen one this strong. Dumbledore's age line was visibly etched into the enchanted stone of the Great Hall, and he could feel the waves of magic that were rolling off his grandfather as the ward was set.

“Harry, what's an age line?” Calypso demanded.

“A protective ward.” Harry replied stiffly, his mind racing to think of possible ways around it.

Calypso met her boyfriend's eyes intently. “Can we get around it?”

“We'll never break down Dumbledore's ward,” Harry said vehemently. “Especially not in the time we have to put our names into the Goblet.”

“I didn't ask if it could be broken, I asked if we can beat it,” Calypso said as people began standing up to file out of the Great Hall. “Is there a way around the magic?”

“I don't...” Harry trailed off as the solution came to him. Looking up at Dumbledore, a huge smile crossed Harry's face. It was so easy, so ludicrously easy, but he was willing to bet that no one else would think of it. They all saw Albus Dumbledore, defeater of Grindelwald, most powerful wizard alive. What magic could possibly defeat a ward he crafted?

For Harry though, he saw the man who gave him a book of Muggle riddles and logic games on his fifth birthday. He didn't need magic to overcome Dumbledore's age line; he just needed someone to help him get around it.

As everyone began standing up to leave the Main Hall, Harry grinned up at his grandfather. “Viktor!” he shouted over the mass of voices, “I need a favor!”

Before his friend could so much as ask what Harry wanted, Dumbledore had cut his way through the crowd.

“Mr. Potter,” The Headmaster's voice was jovial, though there was an underlying hint of reproach. “Welcome back to Hogwarts. Would you mind terribly if we spoke briefly in my office before you retire this evening?”

Knowing that he didn't have much of a choice, Harry nodded politely to his grandfather. .

As soon as the two had left, whispered conversation began to spring up. The Hogwarts students curious about what Harry Potter was doing back at Hogwarts, the Durmstrang delegation confused as to what Albus Dumbledore could want with the talented fourth year, and the Beauxbatons delegation asking the other two schools just who Harry Potter was.

The walk back to Dumbledore's office was done in near silence – the only sound coming from the hushed mumblings of the curious portraits. As they approached the large Gargoyle that protected the Headmaster's office, the stone statue jumped up and allowed Dumbledore to pass without delay.

Following Dumbledore into his office, Harry smiled at the baby Fawkes that was asleep on his perch. The phoenix had obviously just gone through a burning day.

“Take a seat, Harry,” Dumbledore said kindly.

Doing as his grandfather instructed, Harry found himself calling upon his Occlumency to calm his nerves. Before he could so much as say anything, though, Dumbledore's door burst open, and Karkaroff walked inside.

“What is going on here, Dumbledore?”

Dumbledore smiled indulgently at the Durmstrang Highmaster. “I just wished to have a private word with Harry, Igor. I hope you won't begrudge old family friends from speaking to one another.

“Now see here, Dumbledore,” Karkaroff blustered. “Mr. Potter is a student of Durmstrang. I should be informed of any meeting he has with you.”

“I do apologize, Igor. Would you like to stay? I should warn you that our conversation is likely to drag on.” Dumbledore casually conjured the man a rather rigid looking chair before turning back to his grandson. “Tell me Harry, how is your work in conjuring progressing this semester? I admit, I was rather pleased with your progress over the summer.”

“It's going well, sir.” Harry did his best to ignore his seething Highmaster, who was openly glaring at Dumbledore. “I attempted to conjure multiple objects recently, though it didn't turn out too well.”

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. “Oh? Do tell? Why, I recall my first attempt at conjuring multiple objects. I was fifteen, and just starting my fifth year. I remember because Sally Wetherford had ju–”

Turning around, Karkaroff opened Dumbledore's door. Pausing in the threshold, he snapped, “Curfew is in thirty minutes, Potter. Do not be late!” Slamming the door behind him, Karkaroff stormed out of the room.

“What an unpleasant man,” Dumbledore said candidly once Karkaroff was gone. “Now, I do apologize for my rather abrupt change of topic, Harry, but with what little time we have, I'm afraid I cannot tell you the tale of Sally Wetherford tonight.”

“I understand, sir,” Harry said, wanting to get to the real conversation himself. “Maybe some other time.”

“Perhaps.” Dumbledore smiled before growing serious. “I assume you've deduced the apparent flaw in the age line?”

Smirking, Harry replied, “I'm sure Viktor will be more than willing to put my name in, sir. I look forward to being the Durmstrang champion.”

“Hardly the action of a champion, Harry,” Dumbledore scoffed. “Tell me, if you were listening earlier, what did I say the tournament sought to test?”

Unable to recall a single time he'd heard his grandfather use such a tone, Harry was momentarily stunned. Still, he recovered quickly. “Magical prowess, daring, reasoning, and courage.”

“Yes,” Dumbledore mused thoughtfully. “Quite the daring move, sneaking into the tournament through a loophole, Harry. And while I will grant you that it shows a certain amount of reasoning, the amount of courage it requires to ask someone to put your name into the tournament is laughable. Of course, we cannot forget the absolute magical mastery you will demonstrate by having someone else put your name in the Goblet. Truly, you are a shoo-in for the Durmstrang Champion.”

His face flushing red in embarrassment, Harry refused to back down. “That won't matter once I'm champion. I'll show the world just how talented I am in the tasks themselves.”

“Harry,” Dumbledore chided. “The Goblet selects the champions based upon those characteristics. Do you truly believe, knowing what you do, that you will be named the Durmstrang Champion if you follow that course of action?”

“I do.”

Dumbledore 'tutted' his grandson, clearly disappointed. “Really? Can you think of no one else at Durmstrang that matches those characteristics better than yourself? Perhaps someone who does not wish to compete, but will enter their name begrudgingly because they've thought out the repercussions of not entering? Surely, that person would have daring and reasoning to spare. Should that same person have proven themselves to have courage – maybe in the form of chasing a life long dream, even when everyone told him to not to do so. Add to it, a talent – though unappreciated – for magic?”

“You're talking about Viktor,” Harry was unable to keep his voice even. He always suspected that Viktor would make a strong candidate for Champion, but he never considered him to be better than himself. “Viktor is my friend, but I would make the better champion.”

“No, Harry.” Dumbledore gave his grandson a particularly piercing look. “You would make the better competitor. Mr. Krum, would make the better champion. Champions do not take the easy path; they travel on the road less traveled. Forging ahead, no matter what obstacles are presented against them.”

Harry jerked back as if slapped. “I can win!”

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. “I have no doubt you would compete admirably, Harry. I am simply pointing out that should you act as you plan, the Goblet would, ultimately, reject you.”

“You don't know that,” Harry practically spat. “You don't want me to compete. You're trying to stop me from putting my name into the Goblet!”

“I do hope you will reconsider your choice,” Dumbledore said pityingly. “And, you are correct, I do not want you to compete. I care for you, Harry, and I do not wish for you to face the life-threatening challenges that the Champions will experience.” Reaching out, Dumbledore grasped Harry's hand. “But while I do not want you to participate, I understand your desire to prove yourself, especially here at Hogwarts. Consider this for what it is, Harry – a warning and some advice. If you ask someone else to put your name into the goblet, you will not get what you seek. If you truly wish to become the Durmstrang Champion, you must act in a manner appropriate for it.”

“I thought the school heads couldn't give advice to underage students or to students in general?” Harry asked dubiously.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. “I think you'll find, Harry, that the rule is limited to the students at each Headmaster's school. After all, what possible situation could ever arise where a Headmaster from Hogwarts would seek to assist a student from Durmstrang enter the tournament?”

Unable to sense anything other than truth from his grandfather, Harry smiled at the man in front of him. Idly, he wondered if Dumbledore knew he'd try to come to Hogwarts. Harry wouldn't put it past his grandfather; little seemed to ever surprise the man.

Leaning back in his seat, Dumbledore said, “The hour is approaching, Harry. You should get back to the Durmstrang ship before your curfew. Ultimately, you may do as you wish. The choice, as it always was, is yours. I can only hope that you choose the correct path.”

Harry looked outside at the imposing Durmstrang ship on the lake. “Can you answer me one question before I go, sir?”

“Of course.”

“Is there another way around the age line?” Turning back to his grandfather, Harry clarified. “A magical way, one that can be accomplished in the time available, and doesn't involve breaking down your ward through brute force.”

“Warding, Harry?” Dumbledore asked, a pleased expression crossing his face. “You do manage to keep busy, don't you?”

“Sir... Grampa,” Harry amended, his tone pleading. “Is there a way?”

“Yes, Harry,” Dumbledore said truthfully. “There is.”

Standing up, Harry's resolve grew. “Then I'm going to find it. I'm the best candidate to represent Durmstrang, and I'm going to prove it to you.”

ooo0000ooo  


Plans Within Plans  
Durmstrang Ship, October 31st

Harry walked confidently onto the Durmstrang Ship, making it a few minutes from the start of curfew. As he stepped onto the deck of the ship, Harry met the gaze of several of the seventh and sixth years that had yet to go to bed. Unconsciously, he withdrew his wand and started to twirl it between his fingers, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips when the older students looked away and resumed their conversations.

Spotting Viktor and Kira in an isolated corner of the ship, Harry strode over to his friend. “Viktor, I need your help with something.”

“Oh for fuck's sake, Potter,” Kira spat. “Can't you see that Viktor and I are talking? Go bug Rosier or something.”

Sending a poisonous glare at Kira, Harry snapped, “Oh, I'll be getting her in a minute, Megara. I have less than a day to figure out how to break down or evade a ward cast by Albus Dumbledore." Turning to his friend, Harry added, "I could really use your help, Viktor.”

Kira laughed. “Well, you can forget me helping, Potter. I plan on actually getting some sleep tonight, not wasting my night watching you fail to do the impossible.”

“Kira,” Viktor snapped, angrily. “Harry is our friend.”

“He's your friend, Viktor. If you want to piss away the rest of our evening with Potter and Rosier, go ahead, but I have better things to do.” With that, Kira set off towards a group of sixth years on the other side of the boat.

His shoulders slumping, Viktor turned to his friend, only for Harry to cut him off.

“Don't apologize for her, Viktor, I don't want Kira's help. You're infinitely more talented than she ever could be.” Harry grinned slightly. “Besides, I have no doubt that she and Calypso would come to blows within an hour or two of us getting to work.”

Viktor watched as Kira sat down next to a lanky sixth year before turning back to Harry. “You're probably right.”

Feeling a surge of emotions from Viktor, Harry quickly broke eye contact and cleared his mind. He had enough to think about with the age-line, Viktor could deal with his and Kira's relationship issues another time. “Right, let's go get Calypso.”

With a final look at Kira, who was now smiling and laughing with the other sixth years, Viktor solemnly nodded his head and followed Harry downstairs. “What did Dumbledore want to talk to you about?”

“He wanted to give me some advice on how not to enter my name into the Goblet of Fire.” Reaching Calypso's door, Harry knocked twice before continuing, “I was just going to have you enter my name on a piece of parchment. You're of age, and I would therefore never have to cross the line to have my name entered.”

Viktor blinked as Calypso's door opened. “And Dumbledore said that wouldn't work?”

Smiling at his girlfriend, Harry said, “Come on Calypso, let's get to work. We need to figure out how to get past the age line.”

“Come inside,” Calypso said, going back into the room. “I hope you don't mind, but I pulled some of your books while you were talking with Dumbledore. I figured I'd get a head start.”

“Harry,” Viktor repeated, “Why wouldn't your plan work?”

“Plan?” Calypso asked.

Eying the books on warding and advanced Charms that Calypso had taken from his room, Harry replied, “I was going to write my name on a piece of parchment and have Viktor drop it in the Goblet for me, thereby avoiding the age line entirely.”

“And Dumbledore said that wouldn't work?” Calypso asked, clearly disappointed.

Picking up a book on warding, Harry shook his head. “No, Dumbledore said my name would be considered, but based upon the characteristics the Goblet uses to select the champions, he didn't think I would be selected.”

Calypso frowned. “And you believe him? He could just be trying to keep you from easily entering the tournament and showing up Hogwarts.”

“I would be happy to enter your name, Harry,” Viktor said quickly. “You know I don't really care much for this tournament anyway.”

Remembering what Dumbledore had said about Viktor not wanting to compete, but doing so reluctantly, Harry fought back a scowl. “Thank you, Viktor, but no. If I want to be the Durmstrang Champion, I need to earn it. I think that, more than anything, was what Dumbledore was trying to convey to me. That the Goblet only selects the worthy, and cheating my way past the age line wouldn't do that.”

“Harry, don't dismiss the easy option so quickly.” Calypso argued. “Did Dumbledore tell you that you would absolutely not be selected if you did this? And is he certain about how the Goblet selects its champions?”

“I don't think anyone fully understands the Goblet, Calypso,” Harry said tiredly, “but Dumbledore almost certainly has a better idea than anyone else, and I trust him. Dumbledore wouldn't lie to me. He knows just why I want to compete, and he won't stop me from entering. He just wants me to do it right.”

Throwing her hands into the air in frustration, Calypso snapped, “You figured out a way past the age line, why do you want to find another way?”

“Enough.” Harry said coldly. “I've made made my choice. Dumbledore assured me there is another way to surpass the age line, so I just need to figure it out.”

“Harry, don't you think you shoul –”

“Calypso, I'm done arguing!” Harry exclaimed. Sweeping his wand across his body, Harry summoned every book Calypso removed from his room and had them stack themselves in two neat piles in front of him. “I won't have someone else place my name in the Goblet. Now, are you going to help me, or not?”

“Don't be an idiot. Of course I'll help you.” Calypso said impatiently.“But don't expect me to jump through the same hoops as you. Viktor, you'll enter my name, right?”

Viktor simply nodded.

“Thank you,” Calypso said sincerely before turning back to Harry. “Okay, so, what do we know about age lines?”

“The name says it all,” Viktor said simply. “It will repel anyone under seventeen that tries to cross it”

Biting her lip, Calypso said, “Okay. Obvious answer: Aging Potion.”

Harry shook his head. “Too obvious. Dumbledore would have thought of that.”

“Don't assume that Dumbledore is infallible,” Calypso countered. “Technically, anyone over seventeen can put your name in; that's one big loop-hole, Harry.”

“Fine,” Harry conceded. “An Aging Potion. What else?”

“Why don't you just throw the paper?” Viktor asked. “If the line only stops you from crossing, why can't you charm the paper to fly into the Goblet?”

“That's a good point.” Taking out a piece of paper, Harry quickly scribbled the ideas onto it. “I wonder if I can just summon the goblet? Get it outside the age line.”

“Harry,” Viktor said hesitantly, “Didn't you say that some wards can cancel each other out?”

Slowly, Harry nodded his head. “Kosarev mentioned it, but I have no idea how it's possible. I'd need a lot more time to figure out how to bypass the age line that way.”

“What if you just layered an age line directly on top of Dumbledore's,” Calypso thought out loud. “If your age line was set to fourteen, would it let you pass?”

Thinking hard. Harry said, “I don't know what would happen. It's possible Dumbledore's age line would simply over-power mine.”

“Or maybe they would cancel each other out,” Viktor said enthusiastically.

“We don't know that, Viktor, anything could happen.”

Glancing out the window, Viktor frowned. “Whatever you decided, Harry, you need to make some decisions quickly. An aging potion will take time to brew, and you will need to learn how to cast an age line if you wish to go that way. It will be dawn in a few hours, and who knows how many times you will need to adjust your plan.”

With a single look out at the horizon, Harry said, “Viktor's right. Calypso, can you start gathering the ingredients for the aging potion? I'll start practicing the age line. Viktor, can you go check to see if you can summon the Goblet.”

When everyone nodded and went about their tasks, Harry looked tiredly in the mirror. Noting his exhausted appearance, he walked over to his desk and removed a pepper-up-potion. Downing the liquid in one gulp, smoke came out of Harry's ears, and he suddenly felt like he'd had a full night sleep.

“Okay, time to get to work.”

ooo0000ooo  


  
If At First You Don't Succeed  
Great Hall, Oct 31st

There was an air of excitement in the Great Hall as students watched people put their names into the Goblet of Fire. The anticipation and curiosity about the prospective Champions was huge, and it was only eight-thirty in the morning.

“Harry!”

“Hello, Nathan,” Harry casually greeted his brother.

Nathan quickly hugged his brother. “It's great that you're at Hogwarts! We're going to have so much fun this year.”

“Yeah, it's going to be fun,” Harry said distractedly, his eyes tracking the large crowd surrounding Fred and George Weasley as they approached the Goblet of Fire.

Noticing where his brother was looking, Nathan grinned. “Fred and George are going to try to get past Dumbledore's age line. They're using an Aging Potion, do you think that will work?”

Biting back his initial comment of 'absolutely not,' Harry reminded himself to stay positive. “Who knows? It might.”

“Oh please,” Hermione said, walking over. “There's no way Dumbledore would let something as simple as an aging potion slip by him. It's nice to see you again, Harry. I enjoyed watching Durmstrang arrive. Can you tell me how the ship arrived like that?”

“Magic,” Harry replied cheekily, causing Hermione to huff. “Sorry Hermione. No sharing Durmstrang secrets. We got quite a lecture about not letting stuff slip before we left.”

Hermione nodded, though she didn't look pleased. “I suppose I understand. I was surprised when Nathan said you were coming to Hogwarts. What with the age restriction for the tournament.”

“There wasn't one originally,” Harry said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“Well, I know in previous tournaments there wasn't an age line, but I think it's a good idea.” Hermione looked uncomfortable. “I read up a little on the tournament, and the tasks are just brutal. Thankfully, Dumbledore put the age line up so some people,” Hermione shot a look over at Ron. “Won't be tempted to put their names into the Goblet of Fire.”

Harry couldn't help it, he laughed. “Come on Hermione. Surely, you don't think the Goblet of Fire would choose Ron, even if he could enter.”

“Oi!” Ron snapped. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“He means,” Calypso said, walking over to stand next to Harry, “that to become a Champion you need to be among the finest examples of your respective schools. And while I'm sure you are a talented wizard, you're not exactly a Champion.”

Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. While Calypso might have sounded sincere to everyone else, having known her for years, he could easily spot her veiled sarcasm.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked. “I thought you were working with Viktor in the library.”

“Just came to see the competition,” Calypso replied, eying Fred and George Weasley curiously.

“Competition?” Hermione's eyes grew wide. “You can't possibly mean that you managed to enter your name in the Goblet of Fire? There's no way you're seventeen! How did you get past the age line?”

Hermione's voice carried throughout the Great Hall, and Calypso found herself the focus of attention. “Yes, I entered my name.” Turning to Harry, she added, “Just because you refuse to accept the simple solution does not mean I'm going to follow you.”

“That's not possible,” Hermione protested. “Dumbledore– ”

“Dumbledore's not perfect,” Harry said emphatically. “There's a simple way to beat the age line.”

“You really figured out a way past it?” Nathan asked, staring at his brother and Calypso in awe.

“Yes,” Harry replied. “Though, it was kind of an oversight on Dumbledore's part, and I promised him I wouldn't use it. I'm trying to figure out another way.”

“What?” Fred Weasley asked, utterly astonished. “You've gotta be joking, right? You know how to get past the age line, but you're not going to use it?”

“Why don't you give that Aging Potion a try,” Harry said, wanting to see what would happen. “Maybe you've figured out a way as well.”

The twins seemed to look at each other before shrugging. “Bottoms up!” They said in unison.

The difference was hardly noticeable, but both Fred and George seemed to have some additional facial hair, and they grew about an inch each. “We only needed a few months, our birthday is coming up in April.”

Harry watched as the twins approached the age line before jumping across. When nothing happened, Harry continued to wait. He thought he'd succeeded by floating the paper over the age line as well, only for the Goblet to reject it a moment later.

While the entire hall broke into applause, Harry continued to watch the Goblet. While the flames were once glowing white and blue, they were now an angry red. Smirking, Harry enjoyed seeing the moment the twins realized that they had failed just before the Goblet rejected their names and blasted them away, complete with full beards.

“Yeah, I didn't think that would work.” Harry scoffed. “Nathan, I'm going to be in the library all day. I need to figure out a way past the age line. I'll see you at the feast later, okay?”

“What? Really? I thought we could hang out today.” Nathan looked over at Ron and Hermione before asking his brother, “Do you want some help?”

Sharing a look with Calypso, Harry shrugged. “More help couldn't hurt, I suppose.”

“Can't we wait until after breakfast?” Ron asked, his stomach rumbling loudly.

Calypso gave Ron a look of utmost contempt. “You can remain here for the rest of the day.”

Nathan and Hermione could only stare as Harry and Calypso immediately turned on their heels and left the Great Hall. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Calypso, like Harry, was not overly fond of their red-haired friend.

“Ron,” Nathan said, “I'll catch up with you later, okay?”

“Really?” Ron appeared genuinely surprised. “You want to spend the morning in the library? When did you become Hermione?”

Hermione glared at Ron before angrily following Harry and Calypso out of the Great Hall.

“She's going to be pissed at you.” Nathan sighed

Ron shook his head. “She's always upset about something.”

“Yeah, but I'm the one that's going to have to hear her complain.” Nathan shook his head. “Later, mate.”

ooo0000ooo  


  
The Plan  
Hogwarts Library

“No, that won't work, either,” Harry said, brushing off Hermione's suggestion. “Dumbledore clearly managed to tie the age line into the Goblet itself.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Not for the first time, Hermione found herself out of her depth when discussing magic with Harry Potter. The sheer amount of thought Harry and his friends have put into getting past the age line in only a few hours was simply staggering.

“Fred and George were able to put their names into the Goblet before being rejected by it,” Harry explained impatiently. “If the age line wasn't tied into the Goblet of Fire, it wouldn't have let Fred or George so much as cross the line. It also wouldn't have stopped me from levitating the paper into the Goblet from behind the age line.”

“The Goblet must be an incredible artifact,” Calypso muttered. “To be able to adapt to a new set of enchantments after centuries is astonishing.”

“Or Dumbledore is just that good,” Harry argued. “Either way, it doesn't help us. We can't summon the damn thing, we can't fly the paper into it, we can't use an aging potion...”

“Have you tried layering the new age line on top of it?” Viktor asked.

“Earlier this morning.” Harry's expression hardened.

“And?” Nathan asked, still a little shocked to be sitting next to Viktor Krum.

Harry grimaced. “I wouldn't recommend it.”

Calypso looked at him curiously. “What happened?”

“Exactly what I said would happen,” Harry said, irritably. “Dumbledore's age line blasted me half-way across the Great Hall and fried my age line the second I completed the spell.”

Viktor looked thoughtful. “Can we break it down? I know that Dumbledore is an incredible wizard, but we have several hours.”

Harry and Calypso shared a look.

“It might be possible,” Calypso said in German, causing Nathan and Hermione to look at her in surprise – everyone had been speaking English. “But it would probably require us to repeatedly use the killing curse against the line itself. We'd need to hammer it down with everything we've got, and based on Dumbledore's skill with wards, even that might fail.”

Harry frowned. “That's not going to happen. Nathan and the rest of my family don't know just how far I've progressed with the Dark Arts. Besides, I doubt I could even manage a killing curse, let alone one strong enough to break down a ward cast by my Grandfather. Also, since the ward is tied to the Goblet, even if we did break it down with a killing curse, there's a chance we could damage the Goblet itself.”

“I am out of ideas then, Harry,” Viktor admitted, also looking terribly uncomfortable at the thought of using the killing curse in such a public forum.

“Wait,” Hermione said, “Why can't you try to break down the ward?”

“Time mostly,” Calypso lied immediately. “Dumbledore is one of the most powerful wizards on the planet. We don't have the time to break down his ward.”

Hermione and Nathan both nodded, though Hermione continued to look skeptical.

“I still don't understand why the aging potion didn't work,” Nathan said. “Fred and George were seventeen, right?”

“Physically, yes. But they weren't really seventeen.” Viktor pointed out.

Hermione looked thoughtful. “But how did the Goblet know that?”

“Dumbledore obviously enchanted the Goblet to respond to how the person...” Harry trailed off, inspiration striking him. Turning to Calypso, he excitedly said, “That's it! The Goblet responds to how the person perceives themselves. The key isn't your physical age, it's how old the individual believes themselves to be!”

“It could be both,” Viktor quickly added. “What's to say that it's not physical and mental perception. Someone might try to manipulate one of those things, but who would think to cover both of them.”

“So all I need to do is take an aging potion and confound myself into believing I'm seventeen.” Harry grinned. “Brilliant.”

“That won't work,” Hermione and Calypso said simultaneously. Surprised, both girls looked at each other, and Calypso gestured for Hermione to go first. “You can't confound yourself. Your mind will reject it, and the spell will eventually fail.”

“So I'll have Viktor or Calypso do it,” Harry said uncaringly.

Calypso shook her head. “There's a bigger problem, Harry. The confundus charm will only provide a very basic amount of cognitive confusion. For example, you can confound someone to think they're a tree, but they won't really believe it. It's a subtle difference, but mind magic is all about subtlety. Besides, I doubt a confundus charm would have much effect on you.”

“What?” Hermione asked, surprised. “Why?

“Occlumency,” Harry said, understanding immediately. “Shit.”

“Exactly.”

Seeing another plan get shot down, Nathan stood up and stretched. “I think I'm going to get some food. We've been working for hours.”

Hermione and Viktor stood up as well.

“I am going to go for a quick fly if we're taking a break,” Viktor said. “I think better in the air.”

“I think better in the air as well,” Nathan said immediately. “Maybe we can –”

Hermione grabbed Nathan's hand, dragging him away from Viktor. “We need to get some food, remember?”

As the group separated, Calypso watched as Harry continued to pour through several books, his expression growing more and more upset.

“There has to be a way,” he eventually snapped. Standing up, Harry walked past a scowling Madam Pince and into the Restricted Section.

Trailing behind her boyfriend, Calypso watched as Harry pulled book after book from the shelves, angrily replacing them all after a few seconds.

“Can I help you find something, Mr. Potter?” Madam Pince demanded.

Turning to face the librarian, Harry said, “I need a book on mind manipulation. Maybe something that touches on advanced forms of the confundus charm?”

The matron frowned, her brow wrinkling in thought. “I might have something....” Trailing off the woman bustled over to a particularly dusty corner of the section before grasping a faded leather tome with a purple cover. Flipping to the index, she nodded. “This is probably the closest thing to what you're looking for. It deals with a form of magic known as Legilimency.”

“I know what Legilimency is. I don't need to sense emotions or pull at memories.” Irritably, Harry left the restricted section, dropping the one book he was still holding onto the table he was working at with the others. As he started to flip through the pages, he suddenly stopped and lifted his head. Calypso was standing a few feet away holding the book Madam Pince had offered; however, it wasn't what she was holding that caught his attention, it was what she was feeling.

“Harry, promise me you won't be upset with what I'm about to tell you,” she said, unease radiating off of her.

“Upset about what, Calypso?” Harry asked hesitantly.

“You have to understand,” Calypso put the book on the table and sat next to him, “by the time I suspected anything, it was too late to tell for sure. I didn't think telling you would do any good.”

“Calypso,” Harry was beginning to grow concerned, “tell me what?”

Taking a calming breath, Calypso said, “Your detention with Ivan, you remember it, right?”

Harry's eyes hardened. “Vividly.”

“I think – and I can't be sure mind you– that what you remember is a lie.”

Harry blinked in confusion. “What?”

Opening the book to a specific page, Calypso pushed the tome at Harry, who glanced down at it before his head snapped up.

“A false memory,” Calypso said seriously. “I remember talking to you after your detention. You were a little sore from the lashes, but you were fine, Harry. It wasn't until almost a week later that you started to close yourself off.”

Drawing his wand, Harry cast a privacy and aversion charm around them. “What are you saying?” he demanded. “What Ivan did was real, Calypso. It happened.”

“And you would think it was!” she countered. “I don't think Ivan broke into your mind, Harry. I think he slipped a false memory into your subconscious while you were distracted with the pain from the lashes. Every time you thought about the detention, every time you went to sleep, the false memory would slowly begin replacing the original until you were only left with the lie.”

Harry shook his head empathetical. “No, that's not true. I remember what happened, Calypso.”

Calypso sighed. “Fine. It really doesn't matter as I can't prove it. Your extensive use of Occlumency likely hid the change in your memory. Ironically, if you weren't so good at Occlumency, perhaps my father or I would have realized what had happened.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Harry asked, the answer coming to him the moment he asked the question. “Fuck. This is how I get past the age line, isn't it?”

Calypso nodded. “You completely open yourself up, and I'll implant a false memory since you can't do it to yourself. It should be easy, all I need to do is change what you perceive to be your birthday.”

“Easy?” Harry glanced down at the book and began to read exactly what was involved in the process. When he was done, he threw his head back and laughed bitterly. “Calypso, this is not simple! So much of my life is tied into my age. Merlin, I have a twin brother!”

Calypso bit her lip. “I didn't say it would be simple, I said the process would be easy. Unlike what I think Ivan did to you, there's no way a false memory would last or completely over-ride your concept of self. Your mind would reject the notion the second a single thing reminded you that you're not seventeen. However, if we time it just right...”

“I'd have a few seconds where I believed it to be true,” Harry muttered. Flipping back through the pages of the book, he flinched. Reading out of the book, Harry said, “If not applied with suitable subtlety, a false memory can come into conflict with the true memory. When the conflict manifests, the individual will feel as if their brain has been set on fire, liquified, and has started to leak out their ears.”

“Pain or not, it could work.” Calypso seemed to be thinking out loud. “If I cast the spell when everyone is already sitting down at the feast, that will diminish the chances of someone interfering or trying to get your attention.”

“We turn them from potential distractions into spectators, they might talk, but they shouldn’t try to get my attention.” Harry found himself nodding along with his girlfriend. “Still, I doubt the replacement memory will last longer than a minute, probably a lot less, so we'd have to do it right in front of the age line. But that still leave one problem, Calypso.”

“What?”

Unable to think of a nice way to put it, Harry just decided to be honest. “Calypso, I don't I want you messing with my mind. You could literally plant anything inside my head.”

“You don't trust me?” Calypso asked, unable to hide the hurt from her voice.

Harry refused to feel bad. “I'm sorry, Calypso, but how would you feel, especially after everything you just told me about Ivan? I do trust you, but I don't think I want anyone screwing around in my head.”

“I understand,” Calypso said eventually, “or, at least, I think I do. I wouldn't want to give anyone the opportunity to mess with who I am either, even you.”

Placing his arm around Calypso, Harry tried to think of something to say when there was a sudden explosion, followed by a puff of bright purple smoke at the other end of the library. As one, Harry and Calypso stood up and made there way over to see what the fuss was about. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry spotted Madam Pince rushing over to the area as well.

“That wasn't funny, Michael!”

Turning his head, Harry saw Padma Patil, covered in confetti and bird feathers, hitting Michael Corner while Su Li laughed next to them.

“Sure it was,” Michael grinned. “Just not to you.”

Staring at his former classmates, Harry felt nothing but contempt and anger as Madam Pince threw the group out of the library. To come so close to entering the tournament, only to be stopped at the last possible moment was not something Harry was willing to accept.

“Old classmates?” Calypso guessed, seeing the expression on Harry's face. When her boyfriend didn't bother to respond, she said, “They don't look that impressive.”

“Calypso.” Harry finally spoke, a burning desire to prove himself overruling any objection he might have previously had. “I'll let you implant the false memory.”

Calypso didn't bother hiding her surprise. “Really?”

“Yes.” There was a cold, almost calculative, look in Harry's eyes as he turned to face her. “But first, we need to get Viktor. I need you to make an unbreakable vow.”

  
ooo0000ooo

Mental Undoing  
Great Hall, Hogwarts

It was a very tense group that entered the Hogwarts Great Hall. Viktor had a look of utmost revulsion on his face while Harry and Calypso were both doing their best to use Occlumency to calm their nerves.

The entire hall seemed to stop talking as the group approached the Goblet of Fire. Rumors of Calypso entering her name into the Goblet had made the rounds, and everyone wanted to know how the girl had done it. The rumor that Harry Potter claimed to know a way around the Goblet, but was looking for a different method had also grabbed all three schools' attentions. And while the students from Beauxbatons and Hogwarts treated the news with a great deal of skepticism, no one in the Durmstrang contingent doubted it for a moment.

Looking up at the staff table, Harry met his grandfather's eyes steadily. He had no doubt that Dumbledore was aware of each and every one of his failed attempts to bypass the age line. The rest of the faculty table seemed to be appraising him very carefully, their expressions changing from outright dismissal to calculated expectancy.

“Viktor,” Harry cast a series of cushioning charms on the floor before kneeling down. “Please, get to it.”

Giving his friend a very tight nod, the Bulgarian strode over to the Gryffindor table – the entire hall tracking his every move as he approached Nathan Potter.

“You have two choices. You can voluntarily leave the Great Hall, or you can remain under a disillusionment charm. Choose now,” Viktor said crisply, raising his wand slightly.

“Err, can I ask why?” Nathan asked hesitantly.

Seeing the Goblet's blue and white flames begin to flicker with less intensity than before, Harry twisted his head and snapped, “No. Nathan, make your decision, I don't have a lot of time.”

Taken aback by his brother's harsh tone, Nathan turned to Viktor and said, “Err, the spell.”

Tapping his wand against Nathan's head, Viktor narrowed his eyes as his friend's brother blended into the surroundings. “Under no circumstance are you to try to get your brother's attention, understood?”

Nathan started to nod, but realizing no one could see him, quickly replied, “Err... okay.”

As Calypso knelt down across from Harry, Viktor walked over to the two fourth years. “Good luck, Harry.” With a flick of his wand, Viktor silently raised a Muffliato around the pair before stepping back and watching Calypso especially carefully.

Reaching into his very over-sized robes, Harry withdrew a potion vial and swallowed its contents. He immediately felt his body shift uncomfortably as his bones, muscles, and limbs began rapidly expanding. While Fred and George were able to shake off the effects of the aging potions, Harry dropped to his knees as his organs shifted, and his body began to rapidly grow.

After a few moments, Harry was able to raise his head up. A single glance at the goblet told him that he didn't have much time left – the flames were rapidly dying as the Great Hall slowly began descending into darkness.

“Are you ready?” Calypso asked intently.

“Yes.”

Sitting on his heels, Harry relaxed before meeting Calypso's eyes.

Removing her wand, Calypso whispered, “Legilimens.”

Around the Great Hall, whispered conversations began to spring up as everyone tried to figure out just what was happening. The only thing keeping the students from laughing outright or standing up to try to get a better view was the imposing figure of Viktor Krum, who was watching the pair intently.

While the student population might have been confused, there was no whispering at the High Table. In fact, every professor at Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, and Hogwarts was eerily silent. While few of the professors knew what was going on, no one could mistake the intense look on Albus Dumbledore's face. Moreover, had any of the professors looked further down the table, they would have seen a similar expression echoed on the face of Severus Snape.

The scene in front of the Goblet of Fire ended rather anti-climatically. Harry simply leaned back, a dazed and confused expression on his face.

Using her boyfriend's preoccupation, Calypso disillusioned herself, sending a weak stinging hex at Harry to snap him out of his daze once she was a suitable distance away.

“Harry!” Viktor called out once Calypso's hex had connected. “You need to put your name into the Goblet of Fire.”

Harry blinked. Someone had called his name, but something just seemed... off. Rubbing his chest, he winced at a slightly raw hex mark.

Looking around the hall, Harry couldn't help but notice that he was the center of all their attention, even the professors were staring at him.

“Harry.” Viktor quickly ran over to his friend, picked him up, and turned him so that he was staring at the glowing blue cup. “Harry, you need to put your name in the Goblet.”

While he was still confused, Harry recognized Viktor as his friend, and, more importantly the word 'Goblet' struck something inside him. Stumbling slightly, he managed to take a lurching step forwards, but it took Viktor grabbing him to prevent him from falling forwards onto the floor.

All around him, echoes of laughter were heard, and Harry felt his blood boil. Something was wrong. People were not supposed to laugh at him, but his balance was off for some reason. His arms and legs felt unusually lanky and cumbersome, almost as if he was unused to his own body. Shaking away the thought, his eyes locked onto the glowing blue Goblet.

Why had he waited so long to put his name into the Goblet? Harry could tell the flames were on their last gasp, and he did his best to quickly close the distance without falling. Ignoring the age line completely, Harry stepped right up to the Goblet, only to reach up and rub his head. He had a headache building – a sharp throbbing just above his right eye. He didn't know why it had happened all of a sudden, but it hurt.

All around him, Harry could hear a sudden increase in voices and whispers. Why wouldn't they shut up? Couldn't they see he had a headache?

Reaching into his robes, Harry withdrew the simple piece of parchment with his name and Durmstrang scrawled across it.

As he released the parchment over the goblet, he felt an unusual rush of success strike him, though he couldn't fathom why exactly. Just as the paper was about to touch down into the goblet, Harry felt a sudden and horrible pull in the pit of his stomach. Instantly, the Goblet's fire vanished, the blue and white flame disappearing completely, leaving Harry's parchment to touch down into a black tar-like ooze.

In the blink of an eye, the Goblet re-ignited with bright red flames – his parchment instantly burning to a crisp.

“No.” Harry shook his head in denial. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered someone calling his name, but he ignored it. The Goblet would accept him. He had worked too hard to not compete in the Tournament. Without thinking, Harry leveled his wand at the Goblet, magic swirling around him and fire dancing across the wand's tip.

“Harry!”

Jerking his head up, Harry found himself looking into the clear blue eyes of his grandfather. He hadn't even heard the man move.

“You need to calm down, Harry. Tonight, you have proven yourself to be a truly innovative wizard, but it is over.” Dumbledore radiated power as he reached out and lowered Harry's wand arm, the fire still visible as Harry seethed. “Not even I would have considered such an innovative solution to surpassing the age line. Well done.”

“Age line? Why would I care about a stupid ag—” Abruptly, Harry recalled other memories. A younger version of him sitting next to Calypso and Viktor, discussing how to surpass the age line. A meeting with Dumbledore where he was asked not to have someone seventeen place his name into the goblet...

It didn't make sense. He was seventeen. He could remember his birthday. He could remember his brother –

“No, no, no, no,” Harry shook his head maniacally, his eyes wild and hair quickly growing disheveled as he brought his hands up to his head. Nathan, his twin, was fourteen, that didn't make sense! “I don't understand! I'm seventeen! I know I am!”

Suddenly, there was a horrendous spike of pain that made him feel as if the Skin-Shredding curse had been cast on his brain. Opening his mouth, Harry screamed as his limbs gave out beneath him. Fortunately, his torment didn't last. Dumbledore easily caught him with a levitation spell just before his head struck the stone floor.

Placing his hand on Harry's head, Dumbledore said, “Sleep.”

His body falling limp, Harry immediately fell asleep. His final screams, combined with the sight of his body falling to the ground, caused a minor eruption in the Great Hall as everyone began to wonder just what they had witnessed.

“Filius, would you mind taking Mr. Potter to the hospital wing?” Dumbledore ordered. “Tell Poppy he is to be given Dreamless Sleep, and, under no circumstances, is he to be awakened before I arrive.”

As the Charms Professor levitated his old student out of the Great Hall, Dumbledore turned to the whispering students. “The Goblet of Fire will make its decision shortly; however, I believe a brief explanation is in order. What you all just witnessed was Mr. Potter attempting, in a rather ingenious fashion, to bypass the age line that protected the Goblet of Fire. Through a combination of Potions and advanced mind magic, he successfully surpassed the age line, and was mere seconds away from becoming a candidate for the tournament.”

The entire crowed fell silent as they processed what Dumbledore was saying. “However, due to the volatile nature of the magic Mr. Potter attempted, he needed to be in very close proximity to the Goblet of Fire, and for nothing to remind him of his true age.” Chucking slightly, Dumbledore removed the disillusionment charm from Nathan Potter, who was torn between listening to Dumbledore and running after his brother.

“Unfortunately, I fear after his parchment failed to enter the Goblet in time, he found himself face to face with a very conflicting set of memories. Mr. Potter will make a full recovery, and I encourage you all to congratulate him on a truly innovative use of magic. I have no doubt, he would have made a fine champion had he been selected.”

As the Goblet of Fire sent a stream of sparks into the air, followed by a piece of parchment, Dumbledore snatched the paper and smiled. “And on that note, it gives me great pleasure to announce that the champion for Beauxbatons is... Fleur Delacour!”

ooo0000ooo

Meeting the Fourth Champion  
Hospital Wing, Hogwarts.

The first thing Harry realized when he regained consciousness was that he was in the hospital wing. The second thing was that he had a splitting headache.

Groaning, Harry asked, “Why do I feel like Dragons have been playing Quidditch with my head while I was sleeping?”

The sound of someone chuckling caused Harry to look to his right where he saw his grandfather sitting patiently next to his bed.

“I believe that would be the result of your friend's rather unique application of Legilimency. I must confess, I hadn't considered that someone would willingly have their mind altered in such a fashion to surpass the age line.” Dumbledore smiled. “Congratulations, Harry, it was a rather brilliant idea.”

“Lot of good it did,” Harry said, bitterly. “All that work. Just to fail at the last second. Unbelievable.”

Dumbledore lost his smile. “Yes, Harry, you were a few seconds too late. The Goblet had already made its decision. I am sorry”

“Who's the Durmstrang Champion?” Harry asked, dreading the answer. If Megara was named champion, he had a feeling Calypso was going to be taking the first Portkey back to Durmstrang, and he'd be tempted to join her.

“Your friend, Mr. Krum, was chosen. Much to Igor's delight and Mr. Krum's annoyance.” Dumbledore shook his head. “I have never seen a young man more displeased to have been chosen for such an honor. Still, I'm sure he will represent Durmstrang well.”

“Oh, he'll do a good job, and there could be a lot worse people chosen I suppose,” Harry replied, both relieved that Kira was not selected, and curious about how Calypso was handling losing out to Viktor.

“Yes, well, there is something I would like to ask you, Harry.” Dumbledore's eyes hardened ever so slightly. “Did your brother show any sign of wanting to enter the tournament?”

“Nathan?” Harry asked, surprised. “No, not really. He tried to help think of some ways past the Goblet with Viktor, Calypso, Hermione, and me, but, no, I don't think he was really that interested in entering himself. Why?”

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. “I see. Unfortunately, Harry, there has been a slight unexpected deviation. It seems your brother has been chosen as a champion.”

Harry's eyes grew wide, and he shook his head in denial. “You cannot be serious! Nathan?”

“Unfortunately,” Dumbledore said somberly.

“But Nathan can't be a champion!” Harry protested wildly. “There has to be someone at Hogwarts that would make a better champion!”

“Ah, but Nathan was not chosen as Hogwarts' Champion, Harry,” Dumbledore replied. “I believe someone Confounded the Goblet of Fire into believing there were four magical school, and placed Nathan's name as the only entrant for that fourth school.”

“I suppose that's possible,” Harry said thoughtfully, “but why would someone bother? It's not like Nathan could ever win the tournament.”

Dumbledore grew pensive. “Your family has many enemies, Harry. I know you are not ignorant of that fact.”

“You think someone is trying to kill Nathan?” Harry asked, horrified.

“It is a strong possibility,” Dumbledore said sadly. “Your parents are, needless to say, irate by this series of events, but there is little we can do. The binding nature of the tournament prevents us from pulling him out without damaging his magic. Nathan must compete.”

“But Nathan can't compete!” Harry exclaimed. “Sir, I love my brother, but he might not survive the tournament, let alone win. Nathan has no chance whatsoever.”

“Do not underestimate you brother, Harry,” Dumbledore said passionately. “He might not be as, shall we say, committed as yourself, but he has his own talents.”

“Which he refuses to use!” Harry snapped. “I've tried to get him to experiment with his parseltongue, but he always says no. Nathan's not interested in honing his magic, he just wants to fool around with Weasley and play Quidditch!”

“Then you must help him,” Dumbledore commanded. “Your brother will need your help, and, more importantly, your support.”

“How can I help him?” Harry asked, allowing his frustration to creep into his voice. “I've trained for months to get ready for the tournament. I pushed myself every day to improve everything from Transfiguration to the Dark Arts. Nathan won't be able to grasp the magic I've been working on. Merlin, I doubt Nathan would be able to grasp some of the magic I was working on a second year!”

“Harry,” Dumbledore said patiently, “there are many solutions to every problem. You are an exceptionally talented boy, yes, but so is your brother. Work with him. Help him improve where you can, and try to find easy answers to the tasks that have been set.”

“When is the first task?” Harry asked, dreading the answer.

“The end of November. It will be a task to judge the champions' daring.”

Harry frowned. “Daring? As in magical combat, daring?”

“Unfortunately, as one of the judges, I am honor bound not to assist any of the champions.”

“But I'm not a champion, sir,” Harry pointed out. “So, if I had a question for you at some point over the course of the year...”

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily. “I would be only too happy to assist you, Harry. Provided your question is academic in origin. Now, I believe there are some people patiently waiting outside for you.”

Standing up, Dumbledore walked out of the hospital wing, but before he reached the door, Harry called out, “Sir! You said I used a method you hadn't expected to bypass the age line. How would you have done it?”

Pausing slightly, Dumbledore graced his grandson with a knowing smile. “Ah, yes. Why don't you think on it, Harry. When you think you've come up with the answer, come and find me.”

Without another word, Dumbledore left the hospital wing, only to be replaced by Nathan and Calypso.

“Well, it almost worked,” Harry said to his girlfriend, causing her to smile. “And I guess Dumbledore was right about not asking someone else to put the name into the goblet. As much as I like Viktor, I know you would have made a great champion”

Calypso's smile grew, and she leaned over to give Harry a quick kiss. “Thank you.”

“As for you, I hear you found a way to sneak into the tournament,” Harry said, doing his best to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Nathan's face turned red. “I didn't enter this stupid tournament! I don't care how many times I have to say it! I. Did. Not. Ent–!”

“Nathan,” Harry snapped, cutting his brother off, “I was joking. Calm down.”

Nathan seemed to immediately deflate. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I'm just so sick of everyone thinking I put my name into the Goblet. I didn't even want to compete, and now I'm stuck in the stupid tournament.”

Feeling the truth behind his bother's words, Harry said, “Yes, well, we obviously don't always get what we want.”

“Harry, I'm supposed to ask just who you're going to be supporting,” Calypso said, knowing her boyfriend was not in the best mood. “Karkaroff wants to ensure you remember your promise to help the Durmstrang champion.”

Scowling, Harry said, “My brother comes first, Viktor will understand that.”

“Viktor will,” Calypso agreed. “But can you say the same of the Highmaster? Karkaroff wants to win, probably more than Krum. If you don't help, he's likely to send you back to Durmstrang. You do remember that's why we're here now, right? To help the Durmstrang champion.”

“Just bloody great,” Harry muttered. “So if I don't help Viktor, I'm gone?”

“Probably.”

“You can help him, Harry,” Nathan said quickly. “I'd rather have you here than back in Siberia.”

Calypso laughed a little. “Please tell me you don't actually believe Durmstrang is in Siberia?”

“Not really.” Nathan smiled for the first time since arriving in the hospital wing. “I just think it's funny.”

“Alright, so I have to help Viktor or I go,” Harry said. “That shouldn't be too difficult. As long as Viktor says I'm being helpful, Karkaroff won't send me home.”

“True, and it's not like we're excused from our year end projects.” Reaching into her robes, Calypso withdrew a bound roll of parchment. “Here is your spell list. Karkaroff told me to make sure you had it.”

Unbinding the parchment, Harry looked over the first few spells for Charms. “Thanks.”

“Well, I guess that's one good thing about being in the tournament.” Nathan laughed. “I don't have to take any exams or even attend classes.”

Harry lifted his eyes from the spell list and gave his brother a very piercing look. “You're going to go to every class, and when you're done with them, we're going to find a nice deserted corridor where I can teach you spells.”

Nathan groaned. “You sound like Hermione. She's already talking about setting up a practice schedule.”

“Nathan,” Harry said darkly, his entire demeanor shifting instantly. “If you ignore learning magic this year to goof around with Weasley, I'll curse you so badly that you won't make it to the first task. People die in this tournament. I practiced every day for months to prepare for it, and – no offense – I know a lot more magic than you. You're going to do exactly what I say, understand?”

Knowing that his brother was serious, Nathan swallowed nervously and nodded his head.

“Good, we start tomorrow.” Turning to Calypso, Harry added, “Why do I get the feeling this year is going to suck?”

Shaking her head, Calyspo said, “You don't need to be a Seer to realize that, Harry. Stuck helping Krum, teaching your brother, unable to practice the Dark Arts off the Durmstrang shi–”

“I'm not learning the the Dark Arts,” Nathan interjected suddenly, a little worried at the casual way his brother's girlfriend mentioned the Dark Arts. “I'll do my best to practice anything else you tell me, but not that. Now, I'm supposed to meet Hermione in the library. Get better soon, Harry.”

“This might be a problem,” Harry muttered, as his brother left the hospital wing.

Calypso shook her head. “That's an understatement. Did you see the way he looked at me when I mentioned the Dark Arts?”

“We're going to need to be careful about what we say. My parents like you right now, Calypso, but I don't think they would understand our view of dark magic, and they would definitely be concerned with you being in a sixth year Dark Arts class.” Harry grinned. “They might think you're a bad influence on me or something.”

Calypso couldn't help but smile. The causal way Harry admitted to sharing her views on dark magic was a long time coming. Leaning down, she planted a small kiss on his lips. “Do hurry up and get out of here, Potter. I've seen you shake off broken bones in less than an hour. Don't pretend like a headache is going to keep you down.”

As Harry called for Madam Pomfrey to get released from the Hospital Wing, he never noticed a certain spotted green beetle quickly flying out an open window.


	18. Year 4 Part 2

Readjusting Reality  
Durmstrang Ship, Nov. 3rd

“Tighten your wand movement a little,” Calypso instructed, again demonstrating the proper form. “And pronounce the incantation clearly. It's Vee-cer-oh.”

“Vicero,” Harry said, sounding out the spell properly.

Calypso nodded approvingly. “Sounds good, Harry. Do you want to practice the spell or just pick it up here tomorrow?”

“I think I'll give it a try today.” Turning his wand on a nearby desk, Harry quickly transfigured a small goat. The animal looked around the magically expanded room with complete confusion. The few other students in the room were all shouting or silently casting spells, causing various objects and animals to be enchanted, bewitched, or cursed.

Before the goat could run away, Harry hit its feet with a sticking charm, keeping it in place.

“Make sure you keep your distance,” Calypso warned. “This spell can get messy.”

Harry took a step away from the transfigured animal while practicing the necessary wand movements. Sensing that he had a firm enough grasp on the spell, he snapped his wand across his body and said, “Vicero.”

The orange and purple spell shot out of his wand and quickly impacted the stuck goat. The animal let out a screeching sound as a large vertical cut sliced down the center of its torso. Blood ran down the animal's chest as it struggled wildly against the sticking charm.

“Not bad for a first try,” Calypso commented. “I don’t think I managed to draw blood when I first cast it.”

“Any idea what I did wrong?” Harry asked.

“Envision the effect you want the spell to have.” Calypso advised. “The higher level dark arts while emotionally charged, require a certain amount of visualization. You know what the spell will do, but you need to both want and envision the spell to have that effect.”

Pushing aside his reservations, Harry simply nodded before turning his cold eyes back onto the animal. As his wand made the necessary movements, he kept his emotions and his thoughts on eviscerating the transfigured animal in front of him. Jabbing his wand forward, he snapped out, “Vicero.”

This time when the spell struck the goat, the animal let out a booming shriek. The cut down its torso split open and the skin, muscle, and bone peeled back across its lower body, allowing the internal organs to fall to the floor. The goat's eyes grew misty and it staggered slightly before collapsing to the floor in a heap.

Wrinkling her nose, Calypso said, “Good job. Please transfigure that back to a desk though, it's starting to smell.”

Flicking his wand at the barely living goat, Harry transfigured the animal back into a desk.

“Nasty spell.”

Turning slightly, Harry and Calypso nodded to Viktor as he walked over to them.

“Yes, but an evisceration spell can penetrate the hide of all but the strongest magical animals,” Harry said seriously. “Since the only places we can work on our final projects for the Dark Arts are here in this practical room, in our cabins, or in the forbidden forest, I need to brush up on some intimidating spells.”

Looking at his friend in confusion, Viktor asked, “Why?

“Well, I have no desire to show everyone what I'm working on for my final projects, at least until next semester, so the practical room is out,” Harry said packing up his books. “Obviously, I don't want to mess up a spell and damage my room, so the cabin is out.”

Viktor looked confused. “Why don't you just enchant your room to give you more space or...”

“If I was at Durmstrang it wouldn’t be a problem, I would do just that, but I am not messing with the spells on this old ship if I can avoid it. I might end up causing my cabin to suddenly flood or catch fire or release a hoard of blood-thirsty pixies for all I know. It's not worth it Viktor.”

“Okay,” Viktor said in understanding, “So where will you practice?”

Waving his hand and gesturing outside, Harry pointed to the Forbidden Forest on the other side of the lake.

“I thought the forest was banned to students?” Viktor asked. “And I thought we were not allowed to practice the Dark Arts off the ship?”

“We're not, technically, but no one will know what we're doing if we're in the forest practicing at night. The forest isn't monitored very closely, but that's for good reason. There are all kinds of nasty magical creatures in the forest. Nathan told me about a colony of Acromantulas in there, along with Merlin knows what. If I'm going to practice there, I'm not going to become some oversized spider's snack.”

Viktor nodded. “Perhaps I will brush up on some of my spells as well before lunch. Do you have an idea for your Dark Arts project already?”

“Maybe,” Harry said. “I'm thinking about trying to curse an object. I played around with some minor curses on the broom you sent me for my birthday. Mostly little stuff like the flinging jinx, but I might try my hand at a cursed enchantment.”

While Viktor did not looked pleased that his friend was cursing brooms, he still nodded approvingly at the project idea. “That is some very volatile magic, Harry. Be careful if you do decide to practice it. Dark magic can be unpredictable at times, enchantments especially so.”

“I'll be careful, Viktor,” Harry said as he slung his bag over his shoulder. “I'll swing by your cabin later and we can practice some of those ward spells. I need to get some food, and catch up with Nathan. Hopefully, he read that book I gave him last night.”

“Ah, yes, Harry,” Viktor hesitated. “I wanted to ask you. What exactly are you teaching your brother? Is it anything I should consider learning as well?”

Calypso and Harry shared an astonished look before laughing.

“Are you kidding me?” Harry asked. Seeing the growing scowl on his friend's face, Harry added, “Viktor, there isn't anything I'm trying to teach Nathan that you haven't learned years ago. I'm doing my best to make up for the deficiencies in his Transfiguration knowledge right now. His inanimate to animate casting is woefully behind, and his class is only just now working on animate to animate transfiguration.”

“Surely, he must be further along than that?” Viktor asked, shock registering on his face. “I know you complained in the past about his work ethic, but–”

“But nothing, Viktor.” Harry's expression grew angry. “My brother has put off actually working for the last two years or so. I'm just trying to fill the gaps and to maybe give him a fighting chance at surviving the tournament.”

“That is... surprising,” Viktor admitted. “The Highmaster told me to be wary of your brother. He believes your brother might be a threat to Durmstrang winning.”

“The only way Nathan Potter is a threat is if he finds a way to let Harry compete for him,” Calypso said bluntly. “Trust me, Viktor, he refuses to learn basic Dark Arts spells, even though someone might be trying to killing him.”

“I hadn't realized it was so serious,” Viktor admitted. “Don't let me keep you, Harry. If you or your brother need anything from me, you simply need to ask, and I'll do my best to help.”

“Thank you, Viktor,” Harry said. “I really appreciate it. It might be good if you talk to Nathan about the Dark Arts at some point. He won't listen to me, but I think he kind of idolizes you.”

Shaking his head slightly, Viktor said, “Viktor Krum, Quidditch Star and Dark Arts advocate. My publicist would have a minor aneurism seeing that story, but I'll speak to your brother if you wish.”

“Thanks Viktor, I'll see you later tonight.”

  
Blood in the Water  
November 10th

Rage was the only discernible emotion on Harry Potter's face as he stormed across the Hogwarts grounds, Calypso running behind him.

“You need to calm down. If you go in there like this, you'll just prove that she's right.” Seeing that Harry was virtually ignoring her, Calypso grabbed his arm and pulled, spinning him around. “Are you listening to me? You need to calm the fuck down before you do something stupid!”

“Stupid!” Harry snapped, waiving the paper in front of Calypso's face. “I'm going to kill your cousin and his friends, and when I get a hold of this Skeeter woman, she'll–”

“Wish she'd never been born, rue the day she crossed the great Harry Potter, blah, blah, blah,” Calypso said sarcastically.

Harry's expression turned thunderous. “This is not funny, Calypso!”

“You can't let her get to you, Harry.” Calypso vanished the article clutched in Harry's hand. “Don't give her another story, or a way to say I told you so. And, yes, Draco needs to be reminded of his place, but leave that to me, okay? I'll make sure my cousin keeps his mouth shut.”

Realizing that Calypso was right, but still wanting to be mad, Harry said, “Fine. But you tell Malfoy if he so much as says anything about me or my brother to the press again, I'm going to hang him by his feet in the forest and leave him for the Acromantulas!”

Angrily, Harry turned away from Calypso and continued his walk up the hill to Hogwarts. As he approached the castle, he could already see the effects of Rita's article on the student population. As soon as someone saw him, their eyes tracked him nervously – as if he was going to just start lashing out at them with the Dark Arts.

Begrudgingly admitting that Calypso was right, and that he couldn't just storm into the Great Hall and start cursing, Harry did his best to clear his mind. Shoving aside his anger and worry, he took several steadying breaths. Once he felt reasonably certain he could be in the same room with the people who were quoted in the article, Harry walked into the castle and made his way into the Great Hall, finding most the students still sitting around the hall enjoying a late Saturday breakfast.

It was a particularly pathetic first year Hufflepuff that first noticed him. The boy screamed, fell out of his seat, and pointed at him. Soon after, Harry felt the gaze of almost every student shift to him. Doing his best to ignore them, he walked over to the Gryffindor table, quickly finding his brother sitting next to Hermione and Neville Longbottom.

Giving Neville a look that promised all kinds of pain if he didn't move, Harry sat down next to his brother, and did his best to appear unaffected by the school's reception to him.

Rolling his eyes, Harry said, “So, apparently, I'm trying to kill you.”

Nathan smiled, though it was a little forced. “I always suspected. I remember how you stole my stuffed Phoenix when I was five.”

For the first time all morning, Harry smiled in genuine amusement. “I never took that thing. I still say it was Fawkes who didn't like the competition.”

“Only a dark wizard would try to pin the theft of a child's toy on one of the purest creatures on the planet,” Nathan joked.

Harry's smile slipped a bit. “Yeah, well, dark wizard seems to be the consensus.”

Seeing his brother's expression, Nathan said, “No one actually thinks that you're a dark wizard, Harry.” When his brother gave him a disbelieving look, Nathan quickly added, “Well no one that matters. Right, Hermione?”

Hermione nodded her head vehemently. “The article was just terrible, Harry. I couldn't believe the things that woman said about you and your parents. Anyone that's been around Mr. and Mrs. Potter know that they don't favor Nathan. And we've talked about Durmstrang's Dark Arts class several times. Rita clearly exaggerated things a bit.”

“I wish mum and dad did favor me,” Nathan muttered. “Maybe I could get them to get me a new broom.”

Harry had to force himself to smile at Nathan's response. The truth was, Rita had been a little too close for comfort when she described some of the spells the Durmstrang students practiced in the higher level Dark Arts classes. In fact, he had been practicing many of the spells she had mentioned a few days prior on the ship. Someone in the Durmstrang delegation was talking, and that was something that needed to be corrected very quickly.

“I can't believe what Michael Corner said,” Hermione said, sending a poisonous glare at the Ravenclaw table. The Ravenclaws seemed more on edge than anyone else in the entire Great Hall, as if Harry was going to hold them all accountable for what a few members of their house had done. “He had no right to call you anti-social. If that's what you had to put up with when you were here, no wonder you wanted to go to Durmstrang.”

“And Malfoy,” Nathan muttered darkly, “is going to get his. I promise.”

“Don't worry about Malfoy,” Harry said, his voice icy. “Calypso has agreed to 'talk' to her cousin about not involving himself with the press.”

As if Draco knew he was being discussed, he looked up and smirked at Harry from the Slytherin table. The feeling of haughty self-satisfaction the boy was radiating caused Harry's blood to boil. Locking eyes with Draco, Harry longed to lash out and crush the spoiled aristocrat. While Draco's words had been some of the least inflammatory, they had been the most damaging. Draco was the one who told Rita that Harry admitted to knowing several ways past the Goblet, and that he could have easily entered Nathan's name.

Rita had used that information to speculate about how he was likely trying to kill his own brother. Being the 'forgotten' Potter was simply too much for him. So, as his parents spoiled Nathan rotten, he was cast aside, ignored, and hated. The article was complete bullshit and sensationalist. Naturally, it would probably win Rita awards for investigative journalism.

“That's too easy,” Nathan said angrily. “So Calypso just tells him to not do it again? Malfoy won’t listen.”

Harry never broke eye contact with Draco as a very menacing smile slowly spread across his face. “Calypso has a way with words, Nathan. I assure you, Draco isn't going to be talking to the press anytime soon. He might not even have a tongue by the time Calypso is done with him.”

Nathan looked momentarily surprised, but quickly grinned widely. Hermione, on the other hand, just looked a little concerned.

“I really don't want to sit here being stared at,” Harry said, turning to face his brother. “Did you finish that book? Ready to practice?”

“Umm, I have a few chapters left,” Nathan admitted, “but I'm ready enough.”

A little annoyed that his brother was, again, failing to do as much work as he should, Harry said, “I guess we'll see about that. Let’s go. Hermione, do you want to come as well?”

Glancing down the table at Ron, Hermione bit her lip, looking indecisive. “I, I suppose so.”

“You still hang out with Weasley?” Harry asked, standing up and pulling his brother out of the great hall.

Scrambling from her seat and running to catch up, Hermione uncomfortably said, “He'll realize his mistake soon.”

“Yes, can't wait for him to start accusing me of trying to kill my brother.” Harry said sarcastically. “If he actually thought Nathan entered himself for the 'glory' then it'll only be a matter of time before he latches onto the next ridiculous theory.”

“Can we not talk about Ron?” Nathan asked, more than a little uncomfortable talking about his best mate.

“I told you years ago that he was an idiot.”

Hermione glared at him slightly. “Don't call Ron an idio–”

“How would you describe his actions, then?” Harry snapped as they reached an unused Charms classroom.

“He's just a little jealous,” Hermione said, sounding tired and defeated. “He probably wishes it was him in Nathan's place.”

“I wish he was in Nathan's place too,” Harry agreed, silently adding that there was no way Ron Weasley would make it through the tournament alive. Taking a few objects out of his bag and placing them on the desk, he said, “But we don't need to talk about him. Nathan vanish the quill.”

Nathan's eyes widened. “Err, McGonagall said we weren't going to learn vanishing until the start of next term.”

Feeling a sudden rush of anger, Harry glared at his brother. “And every other champion has known how to vanish things for years. Now, start practicing, and vanish the fucking quill, Nathan. You did at least open the book I gave you last night, right? You only have a few chapters left, right?”

“There's no need to be so abrasive!” Hermione snapped. “It's not Nathan's fault that he's in the tournament!”

Taking a calming breath, Harry said, “You're right, Hermione, it's not Nathan's fault that he's in the tournament. However, that doesn't change the fact that Nathan is years behind the other champions. A lot of what the other champions will find simple and easy, will be difficult for Nathan. That also means what will challenge the other champions, could easily kill Nathan.”

Both Nathan and Hermione grew pale as Harry continued, “Nathan, I'm not trying to be mean when I give you a book and tell you to read it by the next day. I know you have class, homework, and everything else, but you need to listen to me. This tournament is not a joke, and you could get hurt or worse competing.”

Pacing around the room, Harry looked at his brother and his friend, deciding to be completely honest. “Hermione, if I come off as angry or upset, it's not because I'm mad at Nathan, it's because I'm terrified for him. I know what Viktor is working on everyday – Merlin, I'm helping him prepare as well – and I can only assume Cedric and Fleur are practicing similar higher level magic to get ready for the first task.”

“Nathan, I'm teaching you a spell that the other champions could do silently and without thought. You're so far behind them it isn't even funny. Merlin, let’s be honest, you're not even the top of your year.” Hermione grasped Nathan's hand, her eyes starting to water as Harry confirmed many of her own fears about the tournament.

“That doesn't mean you can't make it through the tournament, but it's going to be a lot harder for you.” Harry met his brother's eyes evenly. “You have to work twice as much as the other champions simply because you don't know what they do. So, when I ask you to learn something, or to practice in your spare time, I need you to do it. So, Nathan, are you ready to get to work?”

Hesitantly, Nathan nodded.

“Good,” Harry beamed. “Let's get started, Nathan. Vanish the quill.”

Planning Part 1  
November 21st

Harry held Calypso as the two of them sat on the edge of the Durmstrang ship, overlooking the Hogwarts lake. The November weather had brought a slight frost to Scotland, but, compared to the icy winters at Durmstrang, it was still quite pleasant. A small fire hovered high above the lake in front of them as the ship rocked back and forth.

“This is nice,” Calypso admitted. “We should come out here more often at night.”

Harry laughed. “Viktor was the one who actually told me to take you up here. I think he did something similar with Kira.”

“Never would have pegged Viktor as the romantic type,” Calypso admitted.

“Viktor's a pretty complex guy.” Harry grinned. “He'll probably end up mastering Aqua Eructo before both of us.”

Calypso chuckled. “I doubt it. While I admit there's more to Krum than I thought, you'll be the first to figure that spell out. No doubt about that.”

“What's this?” Harry asked. “Calypso Rosier admitting defeat already?”

Leaning back into her boyfriend, Calypso seemed to shrug in an unconcerned manner. “Oh, I'll do my best to get it before you, Harry, don't ever doubt that. But, let’s be honest, unless you get cocky or don't practice, I'm not going to catch you. Not in advanced Charms. Have you heard back from Professor Kosarev?”

“Yes, the letter arrived just earlier today. He said whatever I decide, warding or Aqua Eructo, they're likely both Master deserving projects.”

“I'm going to get Aqua Eructo by the end of the year,” Calypso said, seriously. “I might not be able be able to control it yet, but I'll get there.”

“I believe you.”

“Good.” Calypso grinned, turning to place a kiss on his cheek. “So you'll do warding for your final project then.”

“Oh?” Harry asked. “Deciding for me?”

“No, just trying to help you. It would be pretty embarrassing if the winner of the fifth year Charms award had the same final project as the winner of the sixth year award.”

Harry laughed. “Yeah, that would be a little strange.”

Twisting around, Calypso gave her boyfriend a bright smile before pressing her lips against his. Deepening the kiss, Calypso felt Harry's tongue against her own.

“Ah hem.”

The two teens immediately broke apart, instinctively drawing their wands and pointing them at their interloper. Seeing a slightly frazzled looking Highmaster and a smirking Viktor Krum, they quickly lowered their wands.

“Sorry, sir. We didn't think anyone else was still awake,” Harry said sheepishly.

The Highmaster seemed to appraise Harry and Calypso for a long time before turning to Viktor. “I trust you will be ready, Mr. Krum?”

For the first time, Harry realized just how pale Viktor appeared. “Yes, Highmaster. I will be ready.”

“Good. Then I'll leave you to the rest of your evening. Mr. Potter, Ms. Rosier,” Karkaroff said before walking to his room.

“What was that about?” Calypso asked, watching the Highmaster leave very carefully.

“Harry,” Viktor said, “I need your help. I know what the first task is.”

Harry's eyes widened, and he turned to his friend in shock. “Really? What is it?”

Viktor's demeanor seemed to harden. “Dragons.”

At first, Harry thought Viktor was kidding, but the deadly serious expression his friend had told him otherwise. Leaping to his feet, Harry said, “Merciful Merlin. I have to tell Nathan.”

Before he could go anyway, Viktor had reached out and grabbed his arm. “I need your help with this Harry. The only thing I could think of when I saw the things were to shoot it in the eye!”

For the first time, Harry realized just how difficult helping Viktor and his brother could be. “Viktor,” he said, hesitatingly, “I know you'll be able to figure something out. Nathan, Nathan won't. A dragon will kill him.”

“Harry,” Calypso said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It's almost midnight. Your brother is probably asleep in Gryffindor tower. Work with Viktor tonight, and tomorrow, when he's awake, we can go warn your brother. Besides, working with Viktor might give us some ideas on how to help your brother.”

Seeing the fear in his oldest friend’s eyes and begrudgingly admitting that Calypso had a point, Harry said, “Okay, okay you're right. Viktor, let’s get to work. First thing we should do is enchant your robes with flame-freezing charms.”

“They don't fully protect against dragon fire,” Viktor pointed out immediately.

“Doesn't matter. Some protection is better than none at all. I'll layer a few enchantments on your robes and gloves.”

“So what do you think?” Calypso asked as the group descended into the depths of the ship.

Not trusting his voice, Harry simply waived Calypso off, his mind already trying to work out how to get his best friend and brother to beat a dragon. So distracted, Harry barely noticed Viktor knocking on Kira’s door. It was not until Harry saw Kira – her hair mussed and dressed in a light blue evening robe – that he snapped back into the here and now.

Feeling a sharp jab in his side, Harry turned to see his girlfriend all but glaring at him. Swallowing slightly, Harry had to use Occlumency to keep the image of Kira out of his head. Hoping to distract his girlfriend slightly, Harry said, “So Viktor has to fight a dragon. Ideas?”

Calypso stared at him for a long moment, as if to say 'I know what you're doing, and I'm going to allow it for now.' Following Viktor into his room, Calypso said, “Dragons are weak around the eyes. Your first instinct to just attack it, might not have been a bad one, Viktor.”

“Well, I suppose that's a little reassuring,” Viktor muttered. “Karkaroff said they brought in nesting mothers, and that I have to retrieve something they're guarding.”

“Good,” Kira said suddenly. “If they're guarding something, that means they'll need to be restrained somehow. We might be able to use that. Distract it maybe.”

“I don’t know,” Harry muttered. “How would you go about distracting a creature that typically takes a dozen wizards to take down?”

“Killing curse,” Calypso replied immediately.

“Obviously,” Harry said, sending a reproachful look at his girlfriend. “Viktor isn't going to be using that spell.”

“Agreed,” Viktor said. “While I could probably cast it with practice, I don't want to imagine what will be said in the papers if I go that route.”

“Conjunctivitis curse,” Kira suggested. “Blind the thing.”

“Why not just use a blindness curse?” Calypso countered.

“Because a dragon has heightened senses, Rosier.” Kira snapped. “If we completely blind the thing, it'll just try to smell Viktor or just start torching the entire area. A Conjunctivitis curse will cause it to panic. With any luck, it'll try to figure out the problem with its eyes and not utilize its other senses.”

“So you want to send the dragon into a panicking rage?” Harry agreed incredulously. “Viktor how far along have you gotten on those illusions I told you about?”

“I managed a full projection a few days ago.” Viktor grabbed a piece of parchment and began scribbling ideas onto it. “Good idea, Harry.”

“The dragon will probably be able to tell an illusion isn't real,” Kira pointed out. “It has an incredible sense of smell.”

Calypso looked thoughtful. “Maybe hit it with a confundus curse as well. Make it believe the illusion is the real Viktor.”

“I think,” Harry interjected, “I know how Viktor can get past the dragon. Viktor, let’s going outside, I have an idea, but I need you to learn a stronger illusion.”

“Are you stupid, Potter?” Kira snapped. “I just told you a dragon could tell that an illusion is fake!”

Doing his best to keep his temper in check, Harry turned to Kira and spoke very slowly. “No, you said that a dragon would rely on its other senses when faced with an illusion. Come on Viktor, the sooner I show you this, the sooner I can help out my brother.”

Planning Part II  
Harry's Cabin, Durmstrang. Nov 21st

Harry rolled over in his bed, a groan of protest at the light that was entering through the small porthole. He wanted to go back to sleep, back to dreaming about...

Snapping awake, Harry grabbed his wand. “Tempus.”

Groaning at the time, Harry quickly put on some everyday robes, cast a few simple hygiene charms on his face and hair, and made his way outside. He had been up late not only working helping Viktor learn an advanced illusion, but also trying to convince his friend that his plan would work.

Making his way into the castle, Harry quickly began searching for his brother. “Where are you?” Harry asked himself, struggling to remember his brother’s class schedule.

Frantically, Harry looked for anyone that might be in his brother's year and know where he is. As he turned to walk down a corridor, Harry found himself face to face with Ron Weasley. Not in the mood to mess around, he demanded, “Weasley, where is my brother?”

Ron's face twisted into a scowl as two other boys walked up behind him. “I don't know where your brother is Potter. Not everyone fawns over every move he makes.”

Faster than Ron or the other two boys could blink, Harry had his wand out. With a wide sweeping motion, the three Gryffindors were shoved aside. “Then get out of my way. If you see Nathan, tell him I am looking for him.”

Not bothering to spare the three boys another glance, Harry continued down the corridor, up a secret passageway, and down a flight of stairs. After almost an hour wandering around Hogwarts looking for Nathan, Harry finally found his brother and Hermione in an unused Transfiguration classroom on the fourth floor.

“Finally,” he scowled. “I've been looking for you everywhere!”

“You have?” Nathan asked, surprised, but certainly pleased. “I looked for you at breakfast, I could use some help.”

“You have to get past a dragon,” Harry said, immediately. “Viktor figured it out last night.”

Nathan’s mouth hung open before he glared slightly at his brother. “Is that where you were? Helping Krum?”

Quickly taking out a piece of parchment, Harry ignored the question. “Most of our ideas were beyond what you can do, but I think I have an idea.”

“Harr–”

“Not now Nathan,” Harry snapped. “I think we can do something with a combination of curses and charms. While it won’t be flashy, if we practice for the rest of the day–”

“Harry, I –”

“Nathan, let me talk,” Harry said growing upset with his brother's interruptions. “And, Hermione, please start writing these spells down. I should be able to teach you the disillusionment and scent blocking charms fairly easily. That should–”

“I already have a plan!” Nathan snapped, causing Harry to look at him in surprise.

“What?”

“Hagrid showed me the dragons last night,” Nathan said, dropping his voice back to normal. “I already have a plan how to get past it. Hermione and I have been working on it for the last few hours. It might not be the best plan, but I'm going to summon my broom and try to fly past it.”

Seeing his brother just staring at him like he was absolutely mad, Nathan slumped into a nearby chair. “What else can I do, Harry? It's a dragon!”

While Harry admitted that the prospect of his brother taking on a dragon was not something he was happy about, Nathan's attitude was completely wrong, and, knowing what effect emotions could have on magic, Harry was starting to grow concerned. Realizing that his brother needed some encouragement, Harry said, “You can do a lot, Nathan. This task isn't nearly as daunting as it appears at first glance.”

“What?” Hermione's eyes were wide as she stared at Harry in complete shock. “How can you say that? He has to fight a dragon!”

“No, he has to take something the dragon is guarding,” Harry, corrected the girl. “Now, let me ask you this Hermione, are dragons traditionally used to guard treasure?”

Hermione frowned. “Well, they are notoriously independent creatures. They're likely to kill anyone, even the person to whom the treasure belongs.”

“Exactly,” Harry said. “Some people say that the goblins have dragons guarding high security vaults, but that’s all probably rubbish, or the Goblins have just crippled them severely. Nathan isn't facing a griffin or Sphinx that would die to protect its treasure. He doesn't need to fight the dragon; he just needs to avoid it. That shouldn't be too difficult considering it'll be restrained.”

For the first time, Nathan seemed to perk up. “Restrained?”

“Of course! You didn't think they would just throw you into a pit against a dragon and say 'okay, go to it?' This is a spectator event, Nathan. The dragon needs to be restrained so it doesn't go nuts and burn down half the school.” Harry didn't bother to mention that something very similar did, in fact, happen in 1498 at Beauxbatons when a poorly restrained dragon broke free and torched half the countryside before being killed. Hopefully, the judges had noted that rather nasty moment in Triwizard history and remembered to restrain the damn thing properly this time.

“Okay, so, I don't need to fight the dragon.” Nathan sighed in relief. “That's good.”

Harry hated to bring his brother back down, but he couldn't let him take the task to easily either. “Nathan, it's still a dragon, and you're trying to get into its nest. Odds are you're going to face off with it at some point. Did you ever bother to learn the Conjunctivitis curse? I know it was on that list I gave you last year.”

Raising his wand, Nathan shot the spell at his brother, a huge smirk on his face; however, he wasn't prepared for Harry to casually bat the spell into the corner as if it wasn't even the slightest concern to him. “Damn,” Nathan muttered, a bit in awe of his brother’s skill.

“It was a good attempt,” Harry said, not the slightest bit annoyed that his brother had sent a spell at him. Compared to the curses he and Calypso practiced with, the Conjunctivitis curse was rather tame.

“So, what is your plan?” Hermione asked, her curiosity peaked.

Harry sighed. “Okay, Nathan, here is what you are going to do . . . .”

The First Task  
Quidditch Stands, Hogwarts, Nov 22nd

“How are you holding up?” James asked, breaking the hug with his oldest son.

Harry shook his head. He was running on potions at the moment, but he was finally confident that both Viktor and his brother would be all right as long as they stuck to the plan.

“Tired,” Harry said truthfully.

Gripping his son's shoulder, James said, “Join the club, Harry. Ever since Albus let us know what happened, your mother and I have been spending a lot of time trying to look out for Nathan.”

“Where is Mum?”

“She's up by our seats speaking to Albus about Rita's Article. We've tried preventing her from lying in her work, but the Daily Prophet is a power unto itself.”

“I hate that woman,” Harry admitted. “Is there nothing we can do? Get them to print a retraction?”

“They did, Harry.” James looked particularly annoyed. “The next day, actually. It was a small article in the editorial section saying her piece had certain inaccuracies and that they apologize. Not that anyone saw the damn article, but, legally, they met the minimum requirements.”

“Wonderful.”

Leading his son up a private staircase, James said, “I know. Your mum hopes Albus can help, but I doubt it. If Albus could stop Rita, I would like to think he would have done it years ago. She has been calling for his retirement practically since she started writing. That woman has issues, Harry.”

“You can say that again,” Harry muttered, walking out from the staircase into a large private stands overlooking the Quidditch pitch. Spotting his mother speaking with Albus Dumbledore and a blond couple, Harry made his way over to them.

“...couldn't agree more, Lily,” Dumbledore said, “but my hands are tied at the moment. Rest assured though. I had a meeting with Roddick Bold the other day and I made it clear he needs to take a closer look at Rita’s work. While he was not pleased, I believe he understands my position.”

“Stories like this come and go,” the blond man interjected jovially. “I'm sure it will die out eventually.”

Lily looked ready to disagree, but stopped when she saw her son and husband.

“Harry,” Dumbledore said once Lily had released him from her hug, “this is Mr. and Mrs. Diggory, Cedric's parents. Now, I am sorry, but I must go take my position amongst the judges. The task is almost ready to begin.”

“Goodbye, sir,” Harry said politely before turning to the Diggorys. “Nice to meet you both.”

The Diggorys both smiled indulgently, but Harry could tell they weren't really happy to see him. Mr. Diggory practically radiated dissatisfaction while Mrs. Diggory was clearly uncomfortable for whatever reason.

“Amos,” James said pleasantly. “Good to see you.”

Mr. Diggory shook James' hand. “You as well, James. Hasn't this turned into quite the mess? Lily was just telling us about those interview requests from Rita. Can't imagine having Skeeter targeting your family being a good thing, especially with those whispers of a Potter returning to the Wizengamot once Tiberius retires.”

“Those are just rumors, Amos,” James waived the man off.

“Of course they are,” Amos said, disbelievingly. “And is it just a coincidence that your incredibly famous son is named Triwizard champion, even though he shouldn't have been able to enter? Why that would almost certainly boost your standing among the more traditional members.”

“Are you insinuating that Nathan is only in the tournament to help my alleged political ambitions?” James turned fully to stare down the slightly rotund Ministry employee. “It would take a cold hearted bastard to use their child like that Amos. Or did you encourage Cedric for those reasons? Your family is up for the next open Wizengamot seat as well, correct?”

A noticeable tension descended upon the box, and, for a second, Harry thought his father and Mr. Diggory were going to come to blows. Fortunately, the magically amplified voice of Albus Dumbledore caused everyone to divert their attention.

“Welcome, one and all!” Dumbledore’s enchanted voice came from the Judges stands. “To the first task of the Triwizard Tournament!”

Harry watched as dozens of cameras flashed, emitting a small cloud of purple smoke.

“Today, our four champions shall endeavor to prove their bravery and valor as –” A colossal roar interrupted Dumbledore as the first Dragon was brought into the stadium. The entire crowd seemed to pull back in shock before a massive cheer ensued. It took several blasts of fireworks from Dumbledores wand before they quieted again, leaving only the roars from the enraged dragon as background noise.

“As I was saying, each champion will test themselves against a dragon. Their goal is to get the golden egg, which sits within the dragon's clutch.” Dumbledore turned as Ludo Bagman handed him a piece of parchment. “And I have just been given the order we shall see our champions in. After a random drawing, it has been decided that up first, is Cedric Diggory, who will be facing off against a Swedish Short-Snout. After Mr. Diggory will be Ms. Fleur Delacour, Mr. Viktor Krum, and, finally, Mr. Nathan Potter.”

As the crowd cheered or booed for each champion, Dumbledore continued, “I would like to thank the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary for assisting with this task as well as the numerous Ministry Officials that have worked so hard to put this entire tournament together. So, without further ado, I wish all the champions the best of luck!”

The crowd cheered wildly, something that Harry observed, seemed to irritate the large dragon. Sitting down in a seat next to his parents, Harry waited for Cedric Diggory to make his appearance, which he did after several drawn out seconds.

“That's my boy!” Amos cheered. “Show that dragon who's boss, Cedric!”

As Cedric turned a nearby rock into a dog, Harry did not bother to stifle his laugh. “That's his plan? A dog?”

Apparently, Harry had spoken louder than he intended because Mr. Diggory turned to glare at him. “I think your son should keep his opinions to himself, James!”

Before his father could say anything, Harry turned to face Mr. Diggory and asked incredulously. “Why would a dragon care about a dog? What could a dog ever do to a dragon?”

Mr. Diggory gestured at the arena where the dragon had turned to face the barking dog, causing it to momentarily ignore Cedric. “Obviously, as a distraction!”

“A dog is only a distraction until Cedric starts moving towards the nest. Then the dragon will just roast them.”

“Harry,” James snapped, causing his son to look up at him, “enough. Apologize to Mr. Diggory this instant.”

Stunned, Harry opened his mouth to protest but his father cut him off. “How would you like it if Mr. Diggory critiqued Nathan or Viktor’s strategy?”

His face flushing, Harry turned back to Mr. Diggory. Before he could say anything, the entire crowd seemed to collectively gasp as the dragon released a burst of flame – roasting the transfigured dog. Almost immediately after, the large reptile turned its attention onto a sprinting Cedric, who had been making his way to the clutch under a disillusionment spell. With a mighty blast of fire, the dragon roared its defiance just as Cedric grabbed the golden egg.

As Cedric ran out of the arena, the dragon vainly swiped its massive clawed leg at him and released a burst of fire. The dragon’s claw landed a glancing blow, sending the Hufflepuff flying forward. Ironically, the strike seemed to knock the boy beyond the reach of the dragon’s fire, and he unsteadily climbed to his feet and moved out of the arena. Immediately, the dragon handlers stormed into the range, firing stunners at the enraged dragon. After 12 simultaneous Stupefys, the creature collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

The Diggorys were up and leaving the stands before the dragon even hit the ground. Mrs. Diggory's face was pale as the two of them raced downstairs to check on their son.

“Nathan has to face one of those,” Lily said fearfully as the dragon handlers switched the downed Swedish Short-Snout for a Common Welsh Green.

“He'll be okay, Mum,” Harry said, trying to convince himself. “The dragon handlers will step in if it gets bad.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Dumbledore began. “I present, Mr. Cedric Diggory!”

The stadium cheered as Cedric walked out of the medical tent. His upper body was covered in bandages, but he gave a wave to the crowd before turning to the judges.

Harry watched as the large Headmistress from Beauxbatons gave Cedric a 7, Karkaroff gave him a 3, Dumbledore a 7, Crouch a 7, and Bagman and 8.

“Cedric Diggory is currently in first place with 32 points!”

“I guess your Highmaster took points off for Cedric getting hurt,” James said.

Harry snorted. “He was going to take points off regardless. Karkaroff wants to win.”

The Potters fell into an uncomfortable silence until Fleur Delacour stepped out to face her Dragon.

“She's part Veela,” Harry said, watching as the girl easily sidestepped the dragon's fire. He watched as Fleur began to wave her wand in a very intricate motion, her eyes never leaving the dragon.

“What's she doing?” James asked, noticing that the dragon had begun to sway slightly and had stopped roaring all together.

“She's putting the dragon into a trance,” Lily said, recognizing the spell immediately. “It's a very advanced piece of Charms magic. I hadn't thought it would be possible for it to affect a dragon.”

“I wonder if her allure as a Veela is boosting the effect,” Harry speculated, noticing how many people in the crowd had grown silent and were swaying slightly as well.

After almost five minutes, the dragon teetered over and fell asleep.

“Wow,” Harry said, impressed. “That was a nice bit of Charms work. I never thought of trying to put the dragon to sleep.”

“Agreed, it was a wonderful bit of – Oh my!” Lily watched in horror as Fleur, walking past the sleeping dragon, was caught off-guard by a burst of fire leaving the dragon's nostrils. Her clothes immediately caught fire, and she frantically went about casting water charms.

Eventually, the girl was able to put out the fire, her left leg suffering what looked like the worst of the burns. Taking the egg, Fleur limped slightly off the pitch as the dragon handlers swept in and moved the sleeping dragon.

“She was better than Diggory, even though she got burned,” James said unable to keep his unease out of his voice.

Fleur was in the medical tent for only a few moments before returning for her scores. Unsurprisingly, the Beauxbatons Headmistress gave her a 10 while Karkaroff scoffed and gave her a 3. Dumbledore sent an 8 in the air while Bagman gave a 9. Crouch seemed to think very hard before giving her a 6.

“Ms. Delacour is our new leader with 36 points!” Dumbledore said, causing the girl to smile, curtsey and walk back into the medical tend.

“Your friend Viktor is up next,” Lily said. “Do you think he has a plan?”

Realizing that his parents didn't know that Viktor and Nathan knew about the dragons beforehand, Harry said, “Yes, we worked on a plan yesterday. Viktor will be fine, Nathan should be as well.”

Before his parents could question him further, the entire stadium started to chant.

Krum!

Krum!

Krum!

Krum!

When Viktor finally appeared, the entire stadium exploded in cheers. Enraged, the dragon turned to Viktor and gave a challenging roar before releasing a massive fireball at him.

Viktor immediately leaped away from fire, drew his wand, and fired off a very weak Conjunctivitis Curse. The spell struck the dragon dead in the eyes, causing it to roar and shake its head. The Chinese Fireball tried to raise its forearms to its eyes, but the limbs proved too short. Instead, it shook its head violently, as if it was trying to get something from its eyes. While the dragon was distracted, Viktor ducked behind one of the largest boulders and snapped, “Avis!”

A flock of black crows burst from Viktor’s wand and took off into the sky. Not settled with a mere dozen birds, the Durmstrang champion began rapidly recasting the spell. As dozens of birds steadily emerged from Viktor’s wand and continued to fly away, the crowd began to mutter amongst themselves.

Conjuring one last flock of birds, Viktor looked skyward and began swirling his wand. As one, the crowd gazed up and gasped. Rather than having flown out of the stadium, the crows were all flying in a packed formation, appearing as a large black block in the air.

With a final shout, Viktor released one last spell, causing the air to ripple. After a moment, the flock of birds became a single massive crow so large it cast a shadow over the arena. Almost immediately, the dragon ceased sending the occasional burst of fire around the stadium and let loose a challenging roar at the massive creature.

“Oh, wow,” James whistled in awe. “Is that a transfiguration?”

“Illusion,” Harry immediately replied. “Like I told Mr. Diggory, the only way to distract a dragon is to make it aware of another large predator.”

“And the Conjunctivitis curse weakens its eyesight.” Lily nodded approvingly as she spied Viktor walking out from behind the rock’s cover, his wand still in the air. “I can see that the illusion isn’t the greatest.”

Watching as Viktor continued to slowly approach the dragon, the crowd going wild with every step, Harry couldn’t help but defend his friend. “Well, you try keeping up that kind of illusion in these circumstances.”

Reaching out taking her son’s hand, Lily smiled nervously. “I did not mean it negatively, Harry. It is a wonderful bit of magic, but why is your friend not using a disillusionment charm?”

“We tried,” Harry scowled. “Viktor couldn’t keep up both spells simultaneously long enough. We decided it was better to just focus on the bird and if –“

“Merciful Merlin!” James shouted, as the dragon finally noticed Viktor had approached its nest.

Immediately lowering his wand, a massive screech was heard. The dragon instantly turned its head skyward as the illusion, flickering slightly, dove at the dragon. Completely ignoring Viktor, the dragon released a massive blast of fire that caused the illusion to shatter and hundreds of crows to cry out before falling to the arena, dead.

The crowd exploded into cheers of delight they saw Viktor use the distraction to grab the golden egg and exit the stadium.

“Wow,” James said, clapping with the rest of the crowd. “That was incredible.”

Harry couldn't help but feel exceptionally proud. Everything seemed to have worked perfectly, from the Conjunctivitis curse to the illusion.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Viktor Krum!” Dumbledore exclaimed.

Viktor calmly walked out of the medical tent, looking perfectly calm and not like he just out walked into a dragon nest.

The Headmistress from Beauxbatons sent a large number 7 into the air; however, she was unprepared for the massive outpouring of jeers she received from all around the stadium. Amused, Harry couldn't help but accept that Viktor just had a way with crowds. He could win them over in moments.

Unsurprisingly, Karkaroff gave Viktor a 10 while Dumbledore gave Viktor an 8. Surprisingly, Ludo Bagman only gave Viktor a 7, eliciting another round of shouts, while Crouch gave Viktor an 8.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the new leader is Viktor Krum with 40 points!”

Everyone in the stadium seemed to cheer as Viktor gave a final waive to the crowd before disappearing inside the medical tent. Harry wasn't sure why he went inside, maybe he twisted his ankle running from the dragon. Still, as proud as he was of Viktor, he couldn't help but feel a sudden sense of dread creep down his spine as he watched the dragon handlers exchange the Chinese Fireball for the massive Hungarian Horntail.

Lily gasped when she saw the dragon, and she grabbed her husband's hand squeezing it tightly.

“He'll be okay,” Harry muttered, as if trying to convince himself. The entire stadium seemed to grow quiet as Dumbledore stood up.

“Our final champion, Nathan Potter!”

The first thing Harry noticed about his brother was how much smaller he looked than Viktor. While Viktor had a calm, commanding presence, Nathan seemed small and scared. When the Horntail let out a burst of fire, Nathan dove behind a large rock outcropping.

“Come on, Nathan, stick to the plan.” Harry muttered, grabbing his parents’ hands tightly.

Jumping out from behind the rocks, Nathan shouted, “Confundo!” The spell flew from Nathan’s wand, but, unfortunately, struck the magically resistant scales on the dragon’s chest. Undaunted, Nathan fired off another two confundus charms, the last one hitting the dragon in its left eye before he ducked back behind the rock outcropping.

Almost immediately, Nathan began casting spells at himself. Harry could recognize a poor attempt at the disillusionment charm and a weak notice me not charm.

“I cast scent masking and the flame-freezing spells on every article of clothing Nathan had this morning.” Harry told his parents.

“Thank Merlin,” Lily whispered, gripping her son’s hand tighter. “You knew?”

“We found out yesterday,” Harry admitted, as Nathan made his way to a closer rock outcropping. Unfortunately, the dragon seemed to notice the movement and sent another blast of fire at him.

Once the fire had ended, Nathan popped out from behind the rock and fired off a pair of Conjunctivitis curses. At such a close distance, the spells quickly found their mark, causing the dragon to roar in pain – its massive spiked tail striking everything around it.

Harry could only watch as his brother had to frantically dodge the dragon as it started to stomp around the arena in obvious pain. As Nathan retreated back, he whipped his wand toward the castle and shouted, “Accio broom!”

“Oh, cock.”

While they had discussed the idea of using part of Nathan’s plan in case things fell apart, Harry had never thought it would really be necessary. The plan was supposed to be simple. Confuse the dragon, mask your scent, disillusion yourself, and get out. Let the other champions worry about style points. Just complete the task and survive.

After a few moments, the crowd saw what Harry knew would be coming. In the distance, racing towards his brother at top speed, was his Firebolt.

“Oh Merlin.” James' face was pale as he saw his son try to cast a disillusionment charm on both himself and his broom. The spell was inexpertly cast, and there was still a noticeable outline of Nathan, but it was better than nothing.

Lily could only shake her head, willing her son not to take to the air. Unfortunately, her hopes were dashed a few seconds later.

“He’ll be okay, he’ll be okay, he’ll be okay.” Harry looked up and saw his mother crying, her eyes never leaving Nathan as he flew around the raging Horntail, who now seemed to be blasting anything and everything that moved. Most of the eggs had already been crushed, the enchanted golden egg a gleaming exception.

Eventually, Nathan seemed to grow tired of flying around the horntail and fired another pair of Confundos at the creature, causing it to turn and rabidly attack the judges stands. As the dragon sent streams of fire at the heavily warded platform, Nathan swooped down, grabbed the golden egg and immediately took back off into the sky.

As soon as Nathan was away from the dragon, dozens of stunners struck the raging horntail, knocking it unconscious and allowing an exhausted Nathan to make his way towards the medical tent.

It was Lily who was the first to recover. Practically jumping out of her seat, she said, “We need to go see how he is!”

That's all it took for the three Potters to race out of the box. As Harry quickly descended the stairs, he couldn't help but feel incredibly nervous. His brother had made it through the first task, but there were still two to go.

  
Hogwarts  
Great Hall, Dec 6th

“I say we take another crack at the egg later,” Harry said, piling some bacon onto his plate. “We need to hear the sound inside the egg again.”

“Why would you want to listen to that?” Ron asked, looking completely bewildered. “Once was enough for me.”

Harry had to bite his tongue. While he would like nothing more than to call Ron a simpering idiot, the moron and his brother had reconnected after the first task. Personally, Harry thought Nathan was still in shock, having just come face to face with a dragon, and hadn’t been in the right frame of mind when Ron had begged forgiveness. Unfortunately, Nathan, Ron, and Hermione were now closer than ever, and Harry already thought the youngest Weasley would prove to be a problem.

“The sounds is a clue,” Calypso said, talking to Ron like he was two years old. “You do know what clues are, right? We need to decipher it to figure out what the next task is going to be.”

Harry smiled. While he might be forced to 'play nice' with Ron Weasley according to his parents, he was rather thankful that Calypso had no intention of doing so.

His face flushing with embarrassment, Ron said, “The next task isn't until February. There's plenty of time till then! Nathan just finished the first task, and in second place no less! Give the man a little break!”

“A break,” Calypso said disbelievingly. “You want him, someone who's already years behind the other champions, to take a break?”

“Listen,” Nathan interjected, “While I agree that I need to figure out the golden egg, taking a short break won't hurt.”

“See!” Ron said, enthusiastically. “We'll get back to work on the egg soon enough. Let the man have his moment.”

Calypso turned to Harry, her expression eerily blank.

Knowing that Calypso was likely seconds away from losing it at Ron and his brother, Harry said, “Why don't we go work on our Charms project, Calypso.” Standing up, Harry gave a disapproving look at his brother. “We'll catch up with you later, Nathan, okay?”

Sensing that their argument was far from done, Nathan nodded. “Alright, Harry, I'll see you later.”

Calypso stood to leave when Hermione eagerly said, “Um, what Charms project are you working on? Can I watch?”

“I suppose,” Harry said slowly. “Though, it can be a little dangerous.”

Nathan seemed to perk up at the word 'dangerous' and said, “What exactly are you doing?”

Hoping to re-ignite his brother's interest in practicing by showing him some advanced magic, Harry said, “Calypso and I are going to practice Aqua Eructo. Do you want to come watch?”

While Nathan shook his head, Hermione gasped and looked torn between excited and concerned. “Aqua Eructo? Really? Have you asked a professor to supervise? I've heard that spell can be incredibly dangerous if you lose control of it.”

“Supervise?” Calypso asked sounding honestly confused as the three of them left the Great Hall. “Of course not. Why would a professor supervise us?”

Hermione looked at Calypso in disbelief. “To ensure nothing bad happens to you!”

“If something bad happens, then either we'll learn from our mistakes or decide not to cast the spell again,” Calypso said certainly. “There's no reason for a professor to waste their time. Professors answer your questions, provide insights as to what you can do better, they're not there to hold our hands.”

Hermione looked at Harry, who had given up trying to signal to Calypso that she should not be talking about this subject. “You can't be serious? Durmstrang just allows you cast whatever magic you want without supervision?”

“You'd have to be an idiot to not ask for help or advice, and the professors will certainly provide it,” Harry said, addressing what he thought might be Hermione's core complaint. “But, for the most part, we're allowed to go at our own pace. That's why it's better than Hogwarts in my opinion. No one holds you back. Your only limit is the one you put on yourself.”

“But people could get hurt!” Hermione exclaimed as they stepped out of the castle and began the walk to the lake.

“People get hurt at Hogwarts too I imagine,” Calypso shrugged.

Hermione refused to budge. “It's not the same. Durmstrang should do a better job keeping its students safe!”

“It's a different philosophy, you have to be there to fully understand,” Harry said, not liking the way Hermione was starting to bad mouth his school. “You don't get your hand held at Durmstrang, and you become the better wizard or witch because of it.”

“But what about those that need the extra attention?” Hermione countered. “The ones that need the extra help? What happens to them? ”

Harry paused. He honestly hadn't thought about that. “I don't know. Maybe they go to Hogwarts?”

Hermione frowned at the slight before disregarding it to stick with her original point. “Don't you see? Unless you're one of the best at the school, Durmstrang is actually a horrid educational environment. At least at Hogwarts, the professors –”

“Don't,” Harry snapped back. “Don't you dare try to say Hogwarts is a better school than Durmstrang. What fourth year would even be attempting to learn Aqua Eructo at Hogwarts? None. Hogwarts restricts its best and its brightest to keep pace with people like Weasley. Be honest, Hermione, you can't say that the Professors don't hold you back at times.”

“I'm perfectly fine with the pace of my class at Hogwarts,” Hermione said, looking a bit uncomfortable.

“Liar,” Calypso and Harry said immediately.

Hermione flushed, falling into silence as she followed Harry and Calypso. After nearly five minutes of walking around the lake, she exasperatedly said, “Just where are we going?”

“The Forbidden Forest of course,” Calypso said.

Hermione paled. “What? But we're not allowed in the forest!”

“We kind of got that from the name, thanks,” Calypso said sarcastically, “but it's the best place for us to practice.”

“Why don't you practice on the ship?” Hermione asked, hesitantly following Calypso and Harry into the forest. Idly, she noticed how the path they were walking on had been well traveled of late.

“Calypso and I don't want them to see our final project ideas, at least until it’s too late for them to try to copy them. It has happened before, not to us obviously, but in Viktor's year someone stole a final project idea because they couldn’t think of one themselves.”

“Originality and difficulty are parts of the evaluation for the project,” Calypso explained, seeing Hermione look confused. “Two people with the same project can't get the top yearly award because it's obviously not original and not too difficult if two people thought of the same thing and did it.”

Unable to see a flaw in their thinking, Hermione nodded, continuing to follow Harry and Calypso until she stopped walking. “We need to stop. We shouldn't be here.”

Smiling, Calypso said, “It's just a little further. Come on.”

Hermione seemed to take a few steps forward before she shook her head violently. “No! We're not supposed to be out here! This isn't safe. We need to leave. Now!” Turning quickly, Hermione ran back down the path, unwilling to spend another second inside the forest.

Watching her run off, Calypso smiled. “Another hundred feet and she would have made it past the Notice-Me-Not Charms.”

“I'm still trying to get used to including someone besides myself in the ward.” Harry frowned slightly. “Did you feel at all uncomfortable?”

“Not really. I kind of feel like being here is wrong, but it's not anything I can't ignore,” Calypso replied honestly,

“Hmm,” Harry said, “Well, that's some improvement.”

Calypso leaned slightly into Harry, looking particularly smug. “So what do you want to do? Now that you had your little ward test, do you want to help me with Aqua Eructo?”

Feeling a little nervous, Harry did his best to push those feelings aside with Occlumency. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh?” Calypso asked curiously. “What about?”

“Well, Viktor mentioned that they're having a dance over holiday to celebrate the tournament. I was hoping you'd go with me?” Harry asked, unable to keep his cheeks from heating up a bit.

Placing a very light kiss against Harry's lips, Calypso leaned back and said, “Of course.”

A Growing Chasm  
Hogwarts Library, Dec 17th

It was a particularly bored Harry Potter that walked into the Hogwarts library. He'd just spent the better part of an hour working with Calypso on the Aqua Eructo charm, and they were still both struggling to command the spell. After nearly an hour, Calypso had called an end to their practice session, saying she wanted to take a nap before dinner.

So, with a few hours to kill and his brother stuck in Divination, Harry found himself browsing the Hogwarts Restricted Section. While he thought Dumbledore was being a little extreme not allowing any Dark Arts practice off the Durmstrang ship, Harry was glad that the Highmaster had negotiated unlimited access to the library.

Finding the book he was looking for, Harry pulled the small tome from the shelf, and went to check it out with Madam Pince.

“Find everything alright, Mr. Potter?” she asked, eyeing both Harry and the book he had chosen with displeasure.

Harry ignored the woman's slightly reproachful look. Apparently giving an entire group of students access to the Restricted Section greatly offended the old librarian. “Fine, ma'am.”

“I suppose you're off to study with Mr. Krum?” Madam Pince said, sounding disapproving. “When you go over to his table, you tell him that if I have to throw out one more gibbering Quidditch fan, it's him that will be getting tossed out of here.”

“Viktor's here?” Harry asked, surprised. “Where?”

“He and Ms. Granger typically sit at the last table on the left in the Ancient Runes section.” The Matron tutted.

Leaving the old woman to her musings, Harry grabbed his book and set out looking for Viktor. Sure enough, his friend was sitting eerily close to Hermione at an old table in the Ancient Runes section. Seeing their lips moving, but unable to make out what was being said, Harry walked over to their table and sat down.

“Harry?” Viktor asked, looking surprised. “I thought you and Calypso were practicing?”

“Finished early, she went to take a nap before dinner.” Glancing at his brother's friend, Harry asked, “How are you Hermione? What are you studying?”

“Oh, just some extra credit work for Ancient Runes,” Hermione explained. “Viktor has been helping me with a translation. Anyway, I think Ron and Nathan should almost be done with Divination, thanks again for you help, Viktor.”

“It was no problem, Hermione,” Viktor said happily.

As Hermione packed up her things and left, Harry eyed his friend curiously. “You never took Ancient Runes.”

Viktor scowled. “That does not mean I can not look things up, Harry. I don't understand half the concepts you rattle on about for Charms, but I still help you.”

“Cut the crap, Viktor,” Harry said, his face splitting into a grin. “You like Hermione.”

His wand work crisper than Harry had ever seen from his friend, Viktor cast Muffliato. “Watch what you say, Harry. I do not want someone to overhear you. The last thing I want is for Rita Skeeter,” Viktor spat the woman's name, “to create some ridiculous story about us.”

“You really like Hermione,” Harry said, his eyes widening. “What about Kira?”

With a sigh, Viktor's shoulders slumped. “I still care for her, Harry. She has been my friend for years...”

“But?”

“We have... grown apart,” Viktor admitted. “I have asked her to the Yule Ball, but I don't feel the same way about her that I once did.”

“And Hermione?” Harry asked.

“Is different,” Viktor said, a smile crossing his face. “She does not see me as a Quidditch player or Durmstrang champion. When I first saw her working alone in the library, I thought she looked lonely. Apparently, she has few friends in her Ancient Runes class, and I offered to help her.”

“Ever the White Knight, Viktor,” Harry joked before becoming a little serious. “You're okay with her age? She's only a fourth year.”

Viktor waived Harry's concern off. “She's fifteen. The things Kira and I did at fifteen.”

“Right, well, if you're going to ask out Hermione, you should probably break up with Kira first. I don't have a lot of experience with women, but I think that is fairly obvious.”

“I don't know what I am going to do yet, Harry,” Viktor said quietly. “What does your brother think about Hermione?”

Harry blinked. “Nathan? Honestly, I don't know. I always kind of figured he'd get together with Hermione, but he hasn't asked her to the Yule Ball yet, so I don't know what's going through his head.”

“When I inquired about her plans, she said she will be attending with a Longbottom, but that they are only going as friends.”

“I don't know what to tell you, Viktor,” Harry said. “If you like Hermione, ask her out. Just be careful. I don't think Kira is the type that gets broken up with easily.”

Viktor nodded. “I agree. I must handle the situation with great tact.”

  
A Bloody Yule Ball  
Durmstrang Ship, Dec 25th

His heart beat faster than ever before. No amount of Occlumency or mind magic could help him keep his emotions in check, not as he first laid eyes on Calypso walking across the Durmstrang ship's deck.

Everyone had congregated before the ball, Karkaroff wanting Durmstrang to enter the Great Hall together in a sign of unity – naturally with Viktor and Kira being the sole exception, they would be announced separately.

For Harry, his eyes had yet to leave Calypso. The girl had gone to incredible lengths to prepare herself for the Yule Ball. She had disappeared early in the afternoon, saying only that she had things to do before the dance. Harry had actually grown concerned when Karkaroff asked for everyone to meet on the deck and Calypso still hadn't returned.

His concern was needless. Calypso returned to the ship, moments before Karkaroff's announcement was supposed to begin. When Harry first saw her, he forgot to breathe.

His girlfriend wore a loose fitting, strapless silver dress that seemed to flow like water around her as she walked. It wasn't until she stood directly in front of him that Harry realized the dress had a nearly invisible pattern of snowflakes that moved with Calypso, giving the dress its ethereal quality.

Calypso's black hair was a stark contrast to her silver dress, and it was expertly fashioned to fall loosely around her shoulders. Harry reached out laid a chaste kiss on her cheek, she looked stunning, beautiful. When they broke apart, he felt the slightest intrusion into his mind, and he glanced away. The image of Calypso walking up the plank flashed across his mind, but he cleared his mind.

“Same old Calypso, never letting me forget to use Occlumency.”

Smiling in an all too innocent fashion, Calypso said, “As if you'd like me any other way.”

“True,” Harry replied, absentmindedly following the group of Durmstrang students off the ship and across the Hogwarts grounds. “You do look beautiful.”

“Thank you, Harry.” Calypso seemed to consider something before saying, “The dress was my mother's. I'm glad you like it.”

“The dress is great, but you look brilliant without it.” Harry immediately froze, his eyes going wide. “I- I didn't mean that I want to see you without the dress, or that I want to see you naked. I'm just– ”

Calypso laughed. “Harry, I understand. Thank you.”

Feeling like an idiot, Harry took out his wand and conjured Calypso a single red rose. “I know it’s kind of cliché, but my dad said everyone should give a rose to their date.”

Taking the rose, Calypso inhaled the scent deeply. “It's a wonderful conjuration, Harry.”

“I practiced it earlier today when you were off getting ready,” Harry admitted as they entered the Great Hall. “Wow, they did a good job.”

Looking around the Great Hall, Harry was amazed at the renovation that had been done. The entire hall seemed to have a winter theme with an enchanted non-slip frost covering the floor along with dozens of ice sculptures. Large Christmas trees stood in every corner while the large individual house table had been removed and replaced with smaller individual tables.

“Where do you want to sit?” Harry asked, glancing around the hall.

“Viktor and your brother are going to be at a separate table,” Calypso reminded him. “So let’s just sit anywhere. Preferably someplace by ourselves.”

Grinning, Harry led Calypso over to an unoccupied six-person table before carefully casting a Notice-Me-Not charm around them. After taking a seat, Harry looked over at the high table, somewhat surprised to see Dumbledore looking back at him. After a moment, his grandfather smiled brightly before lifting an empty glass to salute him.

“I guess Dumbledore can see through Notice-Me-Not spells,” Harry said, as he pulled out a chair for Calypso, who graciously sat down.

“More likely he enchanted those glasses of his to see through or alert him to the spell’s presence,” Calypso argued. “I'm not sure if you can just see through a spell.”

“No, it can be done,” Harry replied. “It’s just very difficult. Professor Kosarev might help me learn how to better sense and perceive magic after I finish his Charms class.”

Once everyone was seated, a few extra seats needing to be drawn up to fit everyone around the hall – someone had apparently miscounted by four chairs – Dumbledore stood up. “Rather than give some lengthy speech, let me simply say welcome to the Triwizard Tournament's Yule Ball. I wish each and every one of you a very happy Christmas as we take a break from this competition and share a special moment with our friends, both old and new. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you, your Champions.”

The Great Hall's doors opened, and out walked the four champions. Viktor and Kira leading the way, followed closely by Fleur, Cedric, and Nathan.

“Your brother looks uncomfortable,” Calypso pointed out.

Harry nodded. “I don't know who the Indian girl he asked is, but thank Merlin Mum made us take dancing lessons as kids.”

“So you can dance,” Calypso said, sounding pleased. “Good.”

“I haven't danced in years, Calypso,” Harry said, trying to lower his girlfriend's expectations just a bit.

Calypso looked at Harry dubiously. “Are you saying you didn't practice, even after you heard there was a ball?”

“I did a few times,” Harry admitted.

“Good.”

As the music started to play, Harry watched his brother and Viktor danced their partners around the floor. Harry could see Nathan calm down as he got lost in the routine for the Walz while Viktor seemed to grow more annoyed as the dance went on. Harry could see Kira's lips moving, but whatever she was saying wasn't pleasing Viktor in the least.

“Viktor is going to break up with Kira,” Harry thought out loud, shocking his girlfriend.

“What?” Calypso gasped, a huge smile starting to cross her face. “That's the best news I've heard since we got to Hogwarts! Did he say when?”

“No, and keep it to yourself for the time being,” Harry warned. “Viktor isn't happy, just look at him.”

For the first time, Calypso actually looked at Viktor. She saw the way he leaned away from Megara when they didn't need to be close. How their dancing was as stiff and unenthusiastic as physically possible. Finally, she saw a flash of anger cross Viktor's face.

Calypso smiled.

“Do try to sound less pleased when they do break up,” Harry advised his girlfriend.

Her glee vanishing, Calypso adopted a faux-somber expression. “Anything to help Viktor get through this terrible ordeal.”

Harry grinned. “On second thought, just be you. Viktor would get suspicious if you acted any other way.”

Once the Champions had their first dance, there was a mad scraping of chairs as various couples paired off and made their way onto the dance floor. Offering his hand, Harry said, “Shall we?”

“Of course.” Calypso let Harry lead her out to the dance floor where the Weird Sisters had begun a slow ballad. Leaning into her boyfriend, Calypso found herself rocking back and forth in Harry's arms, a content smile on her face.

“I don't suppose we can cut in?” A haughty voice asked.

Harry and Calypso both slowly turned their heads, matching icy expressions on their face as they looked at Theodore Nott and a dark haired girl.

“No,” Harry replied stiffly.

“Theoooo,” the girl whined. “I don't want to dance with the half-blood. Can't we go back to the table and have some more of that punch? I liked it, what flavor did you say it was?”

“Based on your breath, I'd say Schnapps,” Calypso said cuttingly. “Go away.”

Nott looked incredibly uncomfortable as Harry continued to stare at him, an expression of utmost displeasure on his face. “Daphne,” Nott said eventually, “I think we should leave.”

“Finally! You know, Astoria heard a rumor that if you touch a half-blood for longer than a few minutes, you can actually start becoming less pure. I don't appreciate you risking my magic, Theo!”

Seeing Harry's eyes flare in anger, Nott dragged his date away.

“I'm going to hurt him,” Calypso said menacingly.

“Don't worry about Nott. Who cares about him?”

“Not Nott,” Calypso corrected. “My dear cousin, Draco.”

“Oh?” Harry asked. “Why?”

“Because he's the one that sent Nott over here. While you were trying to act all intimidating – nice job by the way,” Harry playfully scowled at Calypso. “I was using Legilimency on that dumb bitch. Dearest Draco thought it would be funny, so he offered Nott five Galleons to try to ask you to switch partners.”

“Why would he do that?” Harry asked.

“You heard that idiot, Harry,” Calypso said shaking her head. “All the Occlumency in the world wouldn't have kept you calm dancing with that stupid bitch.”

“So he wanted me to make a scene,” Harry said in understanding. “Your cousin is asking for a beating, Calypso.”

“Yes, I agree.” Calypso leaned into to quietly whisper in Harry's ear. “Do you want to curse him later with me?”

Harry felt his heartbeat quicken and he struggled not to burst out laughing. “Why not,” he said, “might be fun.”

Escorting Calypso back to their table, Harry quickly placed his dinner order before looking around the Great Hall. While several people had vacated the dance floor, it was still mostly half full with people, among them was Neville Longbottom, who seemed intent on crushing every one of Hermione Granger's toes by the end of the evening.

At the head table, Viktor seemed to be doing his best to pretend that he was both listening to Kira and not watching Hermione dance with Neville. Meanwhile, Nathan was currently doing his best to avoid his date all the while staring at an Asian girl that was sitting next to Cedric Diggory.

“What a night,” Harry said shaking his head, and cutting into a pork chop.

Calypso seemed to sit up straighter. “I think it just got a bit more interesting.”

Stunned, Harry watched as Viktor said something to Kira before standing up and walking out onto the dance floor where Hermione was still being brutalized by Longbottom's dancing skills. The entire crowd seemed to part as Viktor approached Hermione as the song started to die down.

“Excuse me,” Viktor said politely to Neville. “Do you mind if I cut in?”

Neville, looking ready to faint in the mere presence of Viktor Krum, nodded and stepped away from Hermione.

“Thank you.” Viktor nodded to Neville before starting a slow dance with Hermione

“Kira looks murderous,” Calypso practically sang. “Oh, I wonder if Viktor told her it was over, or if he just said that he was helping Hermione get away from Neville?”

“I don't think she'd care at this point,” Harry pointed out. Kira's face was growing redder with every step Viktor and Hermione took together. Harry could practically see the exact moment when it became too much for her, and she stood up and quietly left.

When the song finally ended, Viktor turned around, only to be surprised to see his girlfriend was no longer at the high table. Dropping the Notice-Me-Not charm around his table, Harry waved his hand, catching his friend's attention.

Quickly jogging over, Viktor asked, “Where did Kira go?”

“Left,” Calypso practically sang. “Glad to see you finally broke up with her.”

Viktor glared at Harry, who looked a little sheepish. “Viktor, you just left Kira to go dance with another girl. What happened to breaking up with her tactfully.”

“I didn't break up with Kira,” Viktor protested. “I left to help Hermione. Her evening was being ruined by the chunky boy and his poor dancing.”

Calypso's eyes gleamed. “Please tell me that’s what you said to Megara before going over to Hermione.”

“I simply said I needed to help a friend,” Viktor protested, suddenly realizing his error. “I told her that I would be back shortly and then I danced with Hermione.” Shaking his head, Viktor started to walk out of the Great Hall.

Looking at each other, Harry and Calypso quickly stood up and followed Viktor out of the castle.

“Sorry, Viktor,” Harry said. “It looked like you were blowing Kira off to dance with Hermione.”

“I need to go find Kira.” Viktor said, stepping out into the cold.

“You don't have to go after her,” Calypso said intently. “If you go after Kira now, you'll just spend the rest of your evening dodging curses. Let her come back here, she's the one that left. You didn't do anything wrong. You just danced with a friend.”

“Shut up, Rosier,” Viktor snapped. “I know what you're trying to do, and enough is enough. I know you despise Kira, but she did not deserve to be embarrassed this way. I will speak to you later, Harry, I must go find her.”

Silently, Harry and Calypso watched Viktor quickly jog off towards the Durmstrang ship, an intent look upon his face as he went to track down his girlfriend.

“Well, it was worth a shot,” Calypso said casually. “Pity, if Viktor had stayed at the dance, he and Megara would have definitely been over. Still, that relationship looks done.” Placing a kiss on Harry's lips, Calypso happily said, “Tonight has been wonderful, Harry. Thank you.”

While Harry didn't take satisfaction in seeing Kira humiliated like Calypso did, he did like to see Calypso happy.

“Would the fearsome Calypso Rosier allow me the honor of escorting her back to the ball?” Harry asked, bowing playfully.

Calypso curtseyed. “Why thank you, Mr. Potter. Whatever would I do without you?”

As the two teens walked back inside the castle, a single bug flew off from its spot on wall. As quickly as its wings would carry it, the animal raced to the edge of the Hogwarts wards, Rita Skeeter had a story to write.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the story as it exists on FF.net and DLP. If in the future The Santi chooses to continue or grant permission for another author to continue the story I'm sure everyone who's gotten to this point will agree with me that that would be a joyous occasion indeed.
> 
> Best,  
Wolfe


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